A/N: Eish, its been so long since I've written a fanfic. But here is the first chapter to my newie. Hope you like, this is just a sort of filler/introductory chapter. Review if you like or if it takes your fancy to do so I would love the feedback.

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise from the wonderful Tamora Pierce is mine, the rest is her's including places (and later characters) the plot is mine though.

He never appeared in reality, contrary to the majority of her dream subject matter. Since Nastasya could remember she had always dreamed things that were true, from the mundane and local to that which was extraordinary and not relative to her. The first such true-dream she had was of the former, the mundane kind. It was of the next morning's breakfast and everyone's clothing in minute detail. Of course the one deviation from reality was that he, the mysterious silver haired man, was there. She has always assumed that it was he who guided her true-dreams though she did not know his identity.

Nastasya shuddered awake, the faint moonlight from her window showed it was still night time. Her dreams had been frantic and confused, she had felt that they were not her own, but others' thoughts. This often occurred when she was somewhere new. In this instance it was the Royal Palace of Tortall in Corus.

Her father and she had arrived in the afternoon, tired, dusty and travel worn from the long ride from Galla; they had retreated immediately to bed. Her father, whom she detested, (which to the undiscerning eye would have appeared entirely unreasonable) was the Gallan Ambassador to Tortall. Their presence was required for the annual trade talks between Galla, Tussaine and Tortall. Well, Nastasya's presence was not exactly required but her mother had practically ordered her to go.

Nastasya knew the reason behind this parental request and resented them all the more for their interference. She could handle that puffed up, arrogant, slimy Lord Markar, and they thought her in love with him! He had courted almost every lady in the Gallan court; her parents could at least give her some credit for taste. But no, when the aforementioned obsequious Lord turned his attention to young Nastasya her parents had doubted her sense.

She closed her eyes and meditated for a time, this often helped block the dreams of others which were so rudely intruding on her own. Soon she was asleep and dreamed only of the man who had haunted her dreams since childhood.

"Nastasya, are you unhappy?" his voice floated and dipped like a summer breeze; dreamy and warm. He had never spoken directly to her in a dream and she gasped and was momentarily lost for words. Her eyes roved, taking in the splendid garden they were seated in.

"I…well…I miss my home I suppose, not that I have remotely experienced Tortall as of yet." She spoke as if there was nothing amiss in this conversation. Their communication was comforting and somehow expected.

"You always felt restless in your home though, did you not?"

"I suppose. Will you tell me your name please? I have always seen you and do not know your name."

"When it is necessary you will know what it is you are and what your power is, your knowledge of me will be the knowledge of your power."

"What power? I am not Gifted, or physically powerful and only reasonably intelligent, what power do I have?" the urgency quivering in her voice surprised even Nastasya herself, her dream-guest only raised and eyebrow and replied

"For now, it is better you do not know. Well, it is better you do not know everything, for surely you know you have the power to true-dream?"

"Of course"

"It is wise that you have never told another soul this ability, though I must ask were such sense came from in a five year old?"

"There was a lady from our township, Agatha her name was. She was burnt when a fortune she told about a women miscarrying her child came true. They declared she had placed black magic on the pregnant woman. My father signed the decree for her execution. I did not want the same fate for myself, even a five year old understands the screams of pain from an innocent woman"

"I wise introspection from one so young. I must go now, it is morning for you. I will visit you again soon. This place is your destiny Nastasya, watch for people to help you, the time will come when you will need them"

She wished to ask him his name but he was gone. She was alone. Blackness resumed its place in her dream space and she slept