We come in droves and caravans. Gypsies; nomadic and exotic, cunning and vigilant. Little family groups called Piqs are what most of us traveled in. Immediate family usually, Don'Gors were the group of men who were the warriors, the hunters and the protectors. Gilshalon were the women who were the brains and skill behind each caravan; they steal, seduce and shift. By giving up their virtue to an Animus Deity they gain many abilities, but at a cost, they may never marry or court with a mortal. Not that anyone would want to fraternize with a beast in humans flesh. Yes, the Gilshalon are an important part of the Gypsies, but they are the shunned, and the outcasts. Not only because they have relinquished their virtue to a beast willingly, but because they were orphans. In Gypsy caravans, your worth is based off of your Piq's personal success and survival. Orphans were usually made so because of a weak mother in child birth, or a weak father felled in battle. The male orphans were usually put with the Don'Gors, or sometimes as the Ooptuks whipping boys, and laborers.

This was how things were for centuries, but things changed when some of the Deities took interest in some of the male orphans. They are a rarity amongst their kind and are sometimes discriminated against by their female counterparts.  There are only two in our caravan, and our Ooptuk prides himself on this fact; saying that regardless of the circumstances, our tribe attracts the rare and obscure, and it’s a good omen of luck.

Ooptuks are from the top Piq, usually with the most generations in the caravan and therefore are the leaders. There are 8 Gypsy tribes out there, each bearing the symbol of the eight heavenly elements. Earth. Air. Fire. Water. Poison. Shadow. Light. Ice. There are no special powers associated with each element; it is just a way of identification. Many centuries ago, each tribe was blessed with a Mage or sorceress who was imbued with a specific affinity to one of the holy elements. Once a tribe was bestowed with a specific element? That was its eternal element.

My tribe is the Air Gypsies, and although we no longer are blessed with N'singra's like all those centuries ago, we take pride in our agility, our cunning and our breezy and light nature. A peaceful nomadic group, like the wind itself we never settled. Our tribe traveled to the seedier parts of big cities; they were better for our out of place wagons and stagecoaches, not to mention the fact that the upper class turned their noses to us and feared us. To them we were the witches, the savages, but mostly we were called mongrels. We came into those cities to sell our wares; our weaponry rivaled that of the military, especially our bows and arrows. Made from the Blackwood tree found only in ancient gypsy underground greenhouses, the bow wood was as strong as it was flexible, and it was also light and easy to carry. Our arrows were affixed with jet black crow and raven feathers and special cougar fang tips. Strong enough to pierce through thin metal armor, yet inexpensive in comparison to metal tips.

Our Ooptuk Hyunwoo was a skilled craftsmen who made exceptional weaponry with nimble and strong fingers, dark black eyes that paid attention to all the miniscule details, and the patience and will to make each work its own master piece. While the men and women of our caravan who live in Piqs set up wares in the old rundown plaza, the Gilshalon were to set out and do the dirtier and inexplicable deeds. Along with some of the Don'Gors, some of them would do shifter magic, others would steal, and then there were the ones who would seduce and entice gold from the lined pockets of the weak minded and curious. however, under any circumstances, wasn't allowed.

As our caravan pulled up to the southern city entrance, we were greeted by a gigantic iron gate, and waited to be let in. Once we were settled in the run down plaza surrounded by poverty and dilapidation, the Ooptuk gave each group their blessing, and we all parted in seemingly random directions which were actually strictly planned out. I took a deep breath and followed the elder of our group. My name is Taemin, and I am a Gilshalon.

Left step, right step, jump and flip. Left step twirl, cover self with blanket, shift. It's a mere instant which is more of an eternity. Time slows and magic swallows you, the beast within catches the scent and pushes its way out. Two feet become four paws, five feet of height become three, colors change, and scents surround me. The blanket is lifted and the sun blinds my eyes. Oohs and ahhs, gasps and words. Jinki, my partner works the crowd, dancing and enticing them with rambunctious words. Gold fills the horse hide sack. I stare into the eyes of the crowd and I prance around, getting close, and jumping back. Not a snarl on my lips, just a swish of the tail.

They're scared, rightfully so, I've just become a wolf before their very eyes, though they think it's all smoke and mirrors mostly. Some know there is some magic behind it, but not in the way they think. Regardless, they enjoy the rush. I scamper to the giant red cloth crumpled on the ground and in a graceful grab and leap maneuver, I toss the material high into the air as my paws touch the ground. Rebounding off of it quickly I throw myself into its light welcoming embrace. I am covered completely, and as I hear the gasps and words of the people I change. It only takes a moment. I am curled into a ball to hide my form on my rapid ascent from the ground. The moment I am suspended in the air, and gravity takes hold of me, I uncurl my arm, grip the red cloth and fling it off of me to unveil my human form again. I gaze at the crowd with a wide smile as I land on the ground in a polite bow. They're amazed as they always are and gold fills the sack once again.

Once the performance is done, Jinki and I take our bow and he says jubilantly "Thank you kind people of Avingal, we hope you enjoyed our performance and will come to see us again next time.” People cheer, and clap while others boo and hiss, those are mostly the religious and self-righteous type. As the crowd dissipates, the plaza and all that occupied it go about their normal business chatting, selling and milling about. I sit on the fountain a bit winded from today's performance. It wasn't because I was actually tired, but because once again I kept holding my breath out of sheer nervousness. Jinki sat next to me and passed me a canteen of water. I thanked him and took a few swigs and sighed heavily once my thirst was quenched.

"We did great today Taemin." Jinki said with a grin holding two modest sized horse hide sacks in his hand bulging at the seams with gold pieces.

He was always so positive and light-hearted. I envied that of him. Jinki wasn't just a top Don'Gor; he was the Ooptuks son. He had a perfect smile, light tan skin, short messy light brown hair, complimented by darker brown eyes. Not to mention his abs. I'd developed a bit of a little crush on him ever since he replaced Yunho, my previous partner. The Ooptuk did this every year to prevent feelings from developing and cementing between the two. It wasn't as if we were forbidden from conversing and hanging out with one another in large groups, it was just when we were alone, but as I always told myself, who would ever want to be with someone who willingly gave themselves to a beast? Jinki was one of the most tolerant when it came to working with a Gilshalon, and that's what made it almost impossible to not like him. I passed the canteen to him and let him drink from it.

Yup, whoever sunk their claws into this one was a lucky one. I glanced around the beautiful main plaza of Avingal. Avingal was a huge city, with three plazas and a huge fountain in the center of each. Together they were called the Trinity Fountains, this was the Dawn fountain, the other was the Twilight fountain and the third was the Dusk fountain, which is where our caravans Piqs had set up shop. Glancing up at the sky I took note that it was an almost cloudless sunny day.

 "Hey Taemin..." Jinki’s voice made me snap out of my trance-like state.

"Huh? What's up Jinki?" he looked down at the pale gray cobblestone ground beneath him and dragged his gaze up to my face almost hesitantly. I quirked my brow up in question wondering why his mood had changed so suddenly.

"Well... I was wondering...how do you change- er...shift?"

I blinked hard a few times processing what had just been said. No one ever asked me questions like this, since no one really cared or they already knew. I looked down at the water from the fountain and looked back up to see Jinki staring at me expectantly and curiously.

"Well Jinki... I've been doing it for so long that I've nearly forgotten since it's so easy to do now. But I suppose in reality it's actually complicated.” I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing.

“When you become a Gilshalon, there is this aura of magic that surrounds you, it's always there and you can always feel and sense it. It isn't subtle, at first it feels like... You know that feeling you get when you think you are being watched?"

"Yeah I do, especially during cougar hunts or infiltrations." Of course he did, I forgot who I was talking to for a moment.

"Well that's how it feels for the first month or so. But anyways that magic acts like a reactor, and awakens the Animus within."

"Animus?"

"The beast we shift into. Well, Technically It’s Anima, Since I’m a male Gilshalon, but it was a male Deity who called to me."

"Ahh... I see. Continue, please."

I nodded and continued as asked "...Well honestly it's quite simple afterwards, once the Animus senses the magic it awakens and takes over physically, the process feels like a good long stretch and when that feeling is over the transformation is complete by then." At this point I wasn't looking at him but rather past him, at the stone buildings. When I did turn my attention to him I could easily see he was eating this up.

"Wow." was all he said.

"Why haven't you asked the other Gilshalon you've worked with about this?"

"I've never been interested or wondered about it until I worked with you." I jumped slightly, his words shocked me indefinitely. I could already tell my golden eyes portrayed my feelings; my eyes were always expressive and usually gave away how I was feeling without my saying anything. I pinched some of my tawny curls between my index finger and thumb and allowed myself to immerse myself into one of my nervous habits; twirling my hair in my fingers.

“What do you mean? Why is that?" I asked curiosity covering where my voice faltered.

"The way you perform, it's genuine excitement. You want to give the crowd a show, not just do the routine to get their money and get it over with.”

I could feel a blush seeping through my sun-kissed complexion. I tried to calm myself by twiddling my hair through my fingers a bit faster, but it didn't work the way it was supposed to. So I giggled nervously and spoke again. "Yeah I enjoy working the crowds and seeing their reactions.” Only the gypsies knew the truth behind the routines and that it wasn't smoke and mirrors but actually a genuine transformation.

It was forbidden to tell outsiders of this, so the penalty was death by the hands of a Gilshalon, in one of the sickest ways. Consorting with one of us causes us to become very violent and ultimately we shift, go into a blinding rage and tear our victims body to pieces, that is why Gilshalon can't have with anyone, it ends in the death of our partner, and that is what makes it the perfect twisted punishment for the one who told our secret, and the outsiders that knew about it.

See, only orphaned Gypsy children can potentially become a Gilshalon, but until recently only the female orphans would have the ability to do so. This means that back then there were only female Gilshalon, with no immediate family per say, no way to reproduce, and no way to ever find the one thing ever living being out there craves. Love. Even with us males around now, as rare as it might be, no one dares to chance anything more than a familial bond, or letting an attraction go too far. It's a heavy price to pay, but we don't have a choice, we have to make up for the weakness in our Piqs... or lack thereof. That is why the most of male orphans who aren’t born to be Gilshalon are laborers; Don’Gors, and are outcasts like the Gilshalon.

However, they are still respected and essentially treated better than us, they aren't beasts hidden beneath human flesh. We are out casted by all ends. Our form of escape is also our curse. I don't exactly know why Animus Deities pick orphans, but my guess is that it has something to do with our vulnerability and our will to survive. I didn't realize I was in a daze again until Jinki poked my nose causing me to jump out of my spot screaming out of surprise. Needless to say I was getting stares and dirty looks by all who stopped to spectate. Jinki looked as if he saw a ghost, and then burst into a hearty laughter. I felt my cheeks grow red out of embarrassment.

"That is not funny Jinki!" I exclaimed with irritation and embarrassment growing more evident in my tone. He didn't attempt to stop laughing until he felt he was good and ready. He stood up, and pretty much towered over my five foot five inch height. I found myself glaring at his chest, and had to crane my neck slightly to direct my glare to that pretty face of his. He grabbed hold of my hand and looked at it then at me, apologized and then kissed it. My anger dissipated, and when he let go of my hand it fell limply at my side. "Come on Taemin let's get back to the Caravan, its getting dark out.” And he was right, the sky was a pretty blend of blue pink and tints of orange. Night would be here soon, and with that a new kind of job.

-----------

I'm debating on this. But to those of you who are actually reading this, would you like it if I made a section of the vernacular used in this story? For words the gypsies use so you know what they mean at all times? Like a reference? If so let me know. And don't be afraid to comment and tell me what you think. I'll update again soon~