Changelings

Razha’s table in the communal workshop is a mess of open jars of fluids, piles of fresh or dried herbs, and apparati of glass flasks and tubes. One flask sits atop a glowing red coil on a metal cube connected by long wires to Annia’s large battery bank. With one hand, Razha stirs the clear solution inside with a glass rod, and with the other she holds a thermometer suspended in the liquid.

“The temperature is very particular at this stage,” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on her work. “And the timing, of course.”

Maris next to her watches closely.

“Now do you remember what we do next?” Razha says.

“Of course, the blood extraction,” he says.

“My turn!” Zal says, walking up from the other side of the barn.

“One of these last batches will be mine, the other will be Ketha’s,” Razha says. “I collected one of the samples from another helpful comrade earlier, so yours is all we need now.”

Razha hands them a needle, and they hold their hand over the flask Razha indicates. They let one drop of their blood fall from the puncture before pulling their hand away.

Razha adds the contents of another vessel to the flask and begins to stir it.
“With just a tiny bit of the natural hormone and some key ingredients we can extract and combine from mountain plants, we can keep a changeling in good shape for another month.”

“So amazing,” Zal says.

“Lucky me to get to be the only non-changeling to know this synthesis,” Maris says.

“Ah Maris, you were essential in helping me develop this procedure, you just need a refresher on new advancements I make every now and then,” Razha says. “One day there’ll be a changeling who needs an alchemist, and you’ll be the nearest alchemist to them, so I want you to get it right.”

“Maybe y’all could teach Ketha too,” Zal says.

“Ha! Who knows what you’d turn into if you took a changeling potion made by Ketha,” Maris says.

“They’ve got a lot to learn, it’s true,” Razha says. “But someday if we keep refining this process, it can be so easy that any changeling child can do this reaction in their kitchen behind their parents’ backs. That’s when my work will be done.”

“What a world it will be,” Zal says.

“No changeling will have to live like we do ever again.” Razha hands the stirring rod to Maris. “Here, you take it from here, you know what you’re doing.”

“Yes, professor Koronova,” he says.

“I gotta deliver these ones before folks go to bed.” She picks up two bottles of pale blue liquid from the end of the table.

Zal follows her outside, where beyond the heavy barn doors Razha sees two shadows approaching from the darkness of the field. Then the light of Tan’aran breaks over the treetops as the moon rises, and she sees its pale light reflecting off of Annia’s silver-white hair and the metallic battery pack on its back. Next to them is Kalen, her rifle slung across her back. They must just be returning from their security shift.

“Our people gather,” Zal says. “As a pale moon rises, the changelings come out. What mischief will they cause tonight?”

“Hey y’all.” Razha holds out the bottles in her hands. “Got yours all ready.”

“Hel yeah! Girl time,” Annia signs, making a happy noise.

Kalen accepts her bottle. “I’ve tried a lot of changeling potions, Razha, but yours is by far the best.”

“Aw, thank you comrade, that means a lot from a changeling elder,” Razha says.

“A what? I have ten, at most fifteen years on you I’m sure,” Kalen says.

“Well I’m thirty,” Razha says.

“Forty three, hardly your elder,” Kalen says.

“Y’all are that old?” Ketha walks up from the side, their mountain dulcimer slung over their back.

“Ketha!” Razha says. “Your potion will be done in a little bit.”

“Great! Wouldn’t want my arms to turn back into flimsy little noodles just before the big day,” they say.

“They’ll be made of steel!” Razha says.

Annia squeezes out a drop of their potion under its tongue and screws the dropper back onto the bottle. “Sweet girl-potion,” it signs. “Yours is really the best, Razha.”

“Yeah, it sure is something special,” Ketha says.

“The secret ingredient is me!” Zal says.

“Comrade Zal is inside us! Amazing!” Annia signs.

“Wait, in which potion, its or mine?” Ketha says.

“That’s between me and my alchemist,” Zal says, sliding up against Razha and throwing their arm around her neck.

“I don’t know that I’ve seen so many of us together in one crew before,” Razha says.

“Don’t forget Perra, too,” Ketha says.

“That’s six of us, Hel, half the collective are changelings,” Razha says.

“More and more of us all the time,” Zal says. “That’s what I like to see.”

“It is sad that they must awaken in a time where we must face such persecution,” Kalen says.

“Maybe that’s why there are so many, though,” Annia signs. “I mean, even when we hide, even when we don’t even know yet, the people who want to harm us still find us, they can tell better than we can. So with more eyes on us, with changelings out front and center, of course more of us are finding ourselves and deciding to stand with our real family.”

“I suppose it is a double edged sword,” Kalen says. “Can we not live in a world where changelings are free to discover ourselves in peace?”

“I want to live in a world where being a changeling is meaningless, because everyone would be able to have the kind of body they want and live the way they want. We could just be like everyone else, have lives beyond struggling for survival,” Razha says.

“I wonder what that’s like,” Ketha says. “Just living. Not in constant battle with the world and my own body. I can’t imagine.”

“I don’t expect I’ll live to see it,” Razha says. “But it’ll be enough to know that someday our people will be free.”