Chapter One

"Ishabeau, Ishabeau," Numair said over and over, "Wake up." He said, shaking her lightly. But his student continued lying limply on the bed in the infirmary.

Daine looked over at Serkan, "What happened?" she asked the serving boy.

He shook his tanned head, "That isn't for me to tell." He said softly. Daine sighed while Numair stood up quickly before the boy, his eyes blazing.

"Now, listen here," he said, stepping right up to the Scarain boy. "This is my student, you're going to tell me exactly what happened or I swear…" he paused for a moment, "Tell me or you will be on your way to trial with Lord Wyldon so fast and then up with the rope around your neck before you can even register what happened." He threatened, angrily.

"Numair!" Daine exclaimed, shocked at her lover's behavior towards Serkan, who didn't even blink at the threat.

"Sir, I am sorry," he said respectfully, "But Beau asked me not to tell you or anyone and I do not want to go against her wishes." His voice was soft and calm. Numair bristled slightly as Daine put her hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"Come, there is nothing we can do now," she said looking over at the girl she had began to view as a younger sister and at times a daughter. Numair nodded absentmindedly as Daine led him away back to their room. She went to bed soon after arriving, fretting, but had been up all day healing and working with the animals. Numair spent the rest of the night pacing when Gainel appeared before him.

"Master Gainel," Numair said, bowing slightly as the god nodded to him. "To what do I owe this surprise?" he asked kindly. The dream God smiled slightly to the mage and nodded in greeting.

I have heard that Ishabeau isn't well. He said, I have a suggestion, a way to communicate with her at least to a point while she is unable to speak to you. He reached out to Numair, his fingers placed in the middle of the mage's forehead. Do this and you will be able to see into her mind, her dreams and that will help you uncover the truth. He said stepping back and holding out a small white opal to the mage.

It may take a while; you will have to sort through her memories and dreams but you will find out what is wrong. Gainel said as he started to fade, Our daughter's life is in your hands, keep her safe. He said disappearing completely.

Numair picked up the opal from where it had fallen and held it in his hands, it looked just like the one that Beau wore around her neck with the black one, both from the God's that had chosen her as important enough to gift with their presense.

The mage hurried to the bedroom, "Diane," he said, shaking her slightly, "Diane, wake up! Gainel has just visited; he gave me something to help with Beau." He said as his lover stirred slightly, turning to look at him.

"What?" Diane asked sleepily as she sat up sat up, "What did he give you?" She pushed her hair out of her face as Numair held out the opal.

"He said it will make it so that we can see into her dreams and memories so that we can figure out what's wrong." Numair said causing Diane got up and quickly dressed.

"Let's go," she said taking his hand and pulling him through the fort to the hospital. They hurried to Beau's bed, seeing the dark haired girl lying there as still as she had been before. Numair moved over to the girl, kneeling next to the bed and placing the opal in the middle of her forehead like the God had done to him. He felt an odd feeling before he was pulled into her memory.

"My dear child," the mother stroked her daughters tear streaked cheek. "Do not cry."

"But, you said yourself that I am leaving in the morn," the girl sniffed loudly, "and I-I shall never see you again."

"Shhhh, Shhhh, Shhhh," the mother cooed. She pulled the girl down next to her in the bed and stroked her long black hair that matched the mother's own shade. The mother calmed her daughter into sleep after a while.

She woke early and looked down to find her mothers hand ice cold and her skin pale. After hours of barely moving, there was a knock at the door. When she didn't answer, a large man came into the small, poorly furnished house.

He saw the girl lying curled up in blankets next to the dead woman and picked her up off the bed. After taking her from the room, the man covered the mother with a blanket and found one of the priests of the Black God's temple to take the body away. When he arrived back to the house, he helped the girl up.

"Dear, who was the woman in the bed room?" He asked, handing her a hot cup of tea.

"Mama…" the girl's voice cracked slightly as she spoke.

"And what is your name?"

"I-Ishabeau Kelam-mone"

"Is your father here?"

"N-no,"

"Where is he?"

"Mama always said h-he passed on before I was born. H-he was a great mage."

"Your parents weren't wed were they?

"N-no."

"Ishabeau, you shall be coming with me just like your mother planned. Why don't you collect your things and met me here?"

The girl nodded and tottered off carefully into the room next to her mothers. They left that night for the school the man ran.

Numair paused as the scene shifted.

Alanna and Jon opened the door and entered. Inside there was a young girl looking out the large window. When she heard Alanna's footsteps, the girl turned, falling down into a bow with her forehead placed on the floor. Jon looked over at Alanna and then the girl.

"Excuse me, miss," He spoke gently, "May I ask what you are doing here?"

Instead of answering, the girl slowly and quietly backed into the closest corner. Jon moved closer to her and bent over. He cupped his hand under her chin so he could look at her, but she shrunk back even farther at his touch. Jon looked up and gave Alanna a quizzical look, who just shrugged her shoulders. Jon lifted the girl's chin up to look at him, her face was upturned but her eyes were down cast.

"Miss, please stand up." The girl risked a glance up at Jon before blushing lightly. Jon grabbed her hands and pulled her up so she was standing in front of him.

"Who are you?" Alanna asked, not bothering to be formal. It was clear this girl was a slave and had been intended at the gift. Her clothes were plain brown, neatly pressed and mended and her hands were rough with calluses from working hard all her life.

"My name is Ishabeau Kelamone, Your Majesty, I have been sent as a gift for you." She said as she kept her eyes down. Her hands were kept clasped tightly behind her back as she spoke.

Jon had sat down, but kept watching the girl uneasily; finally he reached over and pulled another chair close to his. "Come Miss Ishabeau Kelamone, and sit."

The girl looked at the chair and then shook her head. "It's all right, Your Majesty."

"No, I insist," Alanna said sitting in another chair close to Jon, "It would be awkward for me, well both of us, if you stood and we sat."

"No ma'am, I have been trained to stand with respect for my masters."

"Come now," Jon patted the seat, "I wish for you to sit, please."

The girl hesitated for a moment before taking the seat he offered. She sat carefully on the edge with her back straight and her body tense.

"Now, where are your parents?"

"Both have passed on, Sire."

"Who were they? I mean do you know their names?" Alanna asked as she watched Ishabeau.

"My mother was a street worker before I was born, but became a healer later, milady."

"A street worker? Like a vender?" Jon's eyebrows were drawn together slightly.

"No, not a vender sire," She said slowly, "More like a prostitute."

Jon and Alanna shifted uneasily while Ishabeau stared straight forward.

"What about your father?" Alanna asked after an awkward silence. Ishabeau paused for a moment before speaking.

"Please forgive me, milady, but I don't know who my father is. my parents weren't wed when I was born." Her eyes drop even farther than before and her cheeks had turned a slight pink as she blushed.

"So, your mother worked for your father?"

"No sire," Ishabeau shook her head slightly. "My parents were going to marry, but my father passed on before they could."

Jon motioned for her to continue what she was saying. Ishabeau looked down again and sighed.

"Well, Your Majesty, my father was helping my mother to learn how to be a healer so they could marry. Mother always said that he was a great mage that helped her harness her own magic."

"Your mother had healers magic?"

"Yes, Sire. My mother had strong healing magic and often told me once she had enough money she would send me to be trained, but she passed on before she could."

"You were never tested or trained at all?"

"Just what my mother taught me when I was young, Your Majesty. I can control it and heal a bit, but I never had proper training."

"All right now," Jon sat back and sighed. "Alanna, will you accompany this young lady to the bathes. I shall go speak to Numair to have her tested. Gather everything she shall need for life here."

"Sure, Jon," Alanna stood and held her hand out to the girl. Ishabeau just stared at the hand, unsure what to do.

"I-I don't understand Sire," she stammered. "I am but a lowly slave, why give me such kindness? I don't even deserve to be speaking to you."

"Well, my dear, I won't let a girl with strong magic go untrained. I care not if you are a slave or my own daughter. Besides, here we do not have slaves, everyone is treated equally."

"Come dear," Alanna pulled her up. "We have nice warm bathes waiting for you, but first we shall find some clothes that fit you and have some color." Alanna laughed as she led the girl towards the door.

"Well meet you at Numair's room, alright Jon?" Jon nodded and waved to them. Alanna slung her arm around Ishabeau's shoulder and laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that brown isn't your color?"