A/N: I give Tamora Pierce all of the credit for all of the characters and places except Gwen. Gwen belongs to me.
Jonathon of Conte, King of Tortall was a very sure of himself type of man. Every single decision he made, he was certain of. He was certain because he knew he had great intuition, great advisers, and a great support system. His people loved him, his enemies feared him, and his blood lines were running strong. He controlled the Dominion Jewel; he had the Lioness for his champion, the feared King's Own as his guards, the Peerless as his wife, and the Protector of the Small at his command. He was The Voice of the Bazhir tribes, the ruler of a kingdom that had survived a war with Tusaine, Immortals, and Scanra. He survived two treasons that had meant to overthrow his family. His kingdom was rich, his people happy, his coffers full. Yes, he was sure of himself.
"Sire," Jonathon turned from looking out the window to see a shorter man, round in the stomach with a long beard that still held hints of its auburn color among the gray. This was Sir Myles of Olau, his spymaster, mentor, and the adoptive father of the Lioness.
"What is it now Myles? Is Raoul attempting to disappear again? He knows the Midsummer celebrations are coming up." Jonathon smiled knowing his friend's aversion to puff and pomp even after he had married Thayet's guard, Buri.
"No, not that I've heard of yet. This is bigger than that." Myles didn't shift from foot to foot or sound the least bit nervous. He was always calm in the face of news that might terrify a greater man. "Something interesting happened in the temple district today. You might want to fetch your advisors and your wife and son."
"We'll meet in my study then." Jonathon felt that tug at his gut telling him that something big was happening but he knew, as a confident man, that he would maintain control in this situation.
Twenty minutes later Jonathon sat with his main advisers: Gareth the Younger of Naxen, Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Alanna the Lioness, Baron George Cooper of Pirate's Swoop, Duke Baird of Queenscove, Duke Turomot of Wellam, his queen Thayet, and his son Roald. He noted that the Captain of the Provost was missing but Myles didn't seem concerned by that. Instead Myles waited until everyone was settled in and done complaining about being pulled away from whatever they had been doing after dinner.
"Early this morning a priest or priestess from every temple came out into the streets declaring messages from their respective patrons." Myles stopped to take a sip from his cup.
"It's not unusual for the gods to send messages." Jonathon grinned at Myles' folly.
"No it is not unusual. It is unusual that every single priest and priestess received the same message at the same time. It is unusual that there are so many." Myles looked up at the room of people. "Their message is what concerns us, concerns the people that have heard these priests and priestesses speak. They are talking of the gods sending a person from another world, a more advanced world, to our world to advise us in changes that must happen."
"The gods are sending someone from a more advanced world?" Raoul sat up suddenly more alert. "Are we certain they are coming here, to Tortall?"
"That seems to be the consensus." Myles had spent the morning listening to every statement trying to sift all of the meaning he could out of every image the prophets had seen. "If I am not mistaken, sent to Corus to be exact, though not a single mention of why or when exactly. Only that it would be soon and with Midsummer coming up, I would bet my beard that they will be delivered by then."
"We must prepare for him then," Jonathon sat up quickly.
"What if it's a woman, Jon?" Alanna turned to look at her king with her eyebrows raised.
"What better to insight change in the world than a woman," Thayet grinned into her cup. Certainly the biggest changes in Tortall had come from woman in contemporary history. Alanna opened the door for women to come back to the world of knights, Thayet had created schools for the poor, a place for ladies to fight, and the Riders, and Keladry of Mindelan had been a catalyst for change since she had been ten years old.
"I have a strong feeling it will be a man," Jonathon tried. "And we shall be prepared to welcome him to Tortall in style."
It felt strange, like a dream that she consciously controlled. It felt silly to her that she would have lucid dreams now. People trained their minds for long periods of time to control their dreams. She had never had the patience for any such training. And this was unlike any dream she had ever had before. Lucid dreams usually began with something familiar like a familiar object or place. This place was one she had never seen before.
This was a gray and white marble great hall, with no walls, and large pillars rising up to the ceiling. Looking up she saw the pillars seemed to be supporting the universe. Stars swirled around in bright reds, silvers, blues, and purples. It was better than any picture the Hubble telescope had ever produced. She knew she could spend forever staring at the heavens around her except something brushed by her leg making her jump.
Well, are you coming or not? A black cat rubbed against her leg as it passed. Its voice was male and she was amused at the idea that she wasn't the least bit concerned by a talking cat. It looked up at her expectantly with purple eyes and she found herself reminded of novels she had read by Tamora Pierce and committed to memory thousands of times over. Well she supposed if she was going to control a dream, Tortall would of course be the first place she would go. But the cat known as Faithful was usually long back in the heavens in the part she wanted to go to in her dreams.
"Alright, but I don't know where we are going. Or where we are for that matter." She shrugged already knowing the cat wouldn't answer. It wasn't important, so long as she just followed Faithful. He padded in front of her, leading through the expanse of marble flooring and pillars.
The closer they got to wherever they were going, the more she felt that this might not exactly be a dream. It felt important and strangely right that she was in this great hall in the middle of the universe. And it felt right that the cat, the one animal she always felt connected to, was leading her to towards whatever she needed to be doing.
In front of her thrones seemed to rise out of the marble. There were two gigantic thrones that were empty with two slightly smaller thrones next to them. More thrones in varying sizes, colors, and designs stretched around her, surrounding her and the cat. The two largest occupied thrones held an impossibly tall man and woman. The man was black skinned, bald, and was wearing golden armor. The woman was white skinned, ebony haired, and impossibly beautiful. Green and black eyes fixed on her and she heard whispering she didn't know had been happening stop.
"Gwendolyn Jade Lumen, you are summoned before the Gods of a world you have only known as a story." The man, Mithros she decided, spoke with an air of arrogance.
As if I couldn't tell, her mind snapped with a sarcastic remark. Her face remained impassive as she hoped he couldn't hear her mind.
"While no doubt you are needed in your world, our world has greater need of you." The woman, the Goddess she assumed, addressed her. "We need you and your experience to help our world accept changes that must happen."
This certainly sounded like a dream. Why would see be needed? There wasn't anything particularly wonderful about her. She wasn't beautiful by her world's standards. She wasn't a genius on any subject or a commander of any type. What she did have was a flexibility to adapt, resilience in many situations, a stubbornness that often left her defending her side even if she was alone, a bit of empathy, and a love of learning.
In your world you are one of seven billion, the cat in front of her turned to fix her with a stare. Your skills are yours, but you could step away from your world and it would have no impact. It is sad, but true. Here you can make an impact and it won't require large sums of money and selling yourself out.
"You will be the Godssent, the World Jumper. These will be your titles. Your word shall be listened to by kings and emperors. You will be adored by many. That is, if you decide to take it." The Goddess spoke again.
A battle raged inside of her head. She had never felt right at home. For twenty-two years she was the black sheep of her family if only because of an active imagination and a love of things not quite fitting for the era she was in. Her friends were more of acquaintances that would see her when she was around, forget her when she was out of sight, and didn't speak to her unless she initiated the conversation by phone or computer. Her only real comfort was in books and writing.
But this was Tortall. While there was magic and it would be like a renaissance festival that never closed and the characters never stopped acting in this world. She knew the people here, knew their thought processes, their pasts, their deepest secrets and emotions. But maybe it was well past those people. Maybe those people were long dead.
And this was Tortall. She would have to do things that she had relied on modern technology for. Even things as simple as having disposable paper for writing and self-inking pens were gone from thought processes. Her favorite past times like baking, singing, and dancing were not the same here. What she knew as music would probably offend people here. What she thought of as dancing people here would find hyper sexualized at worst, silly at best. Baking would be difficult without an oven, hand mixer, or chemical leveners.
But she might learn to appreciate what she liked before with more hard work. Perhaps she would learn some valuable life skills and how to depend solely on herself. Perhaps she would find a person she liked being for once. Perhaps she would be the change for women and the lower classes. She could be the voice that might be heeded about equality and the pitfalls of pretending equality wasn't needed.
And then she was imagining telling nobility that she was the Godssent and they had better shut up and listen to her. It brought a smile to her face. She imagined sitting with royalty advising them on policy and changes that needed to take place. She imagined traveling all over, talking with the people and becoming important. She wasn't even aware that she stepped forward as she thought. Only when she found herself feet from the Great Gods did she stop and realize she had made a decision.
"Where in the world and when in Tortall history will I be dropped?" She asked, hoping to know of someone.
"Four years after Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan defeated Blayce the Gallan. We will bring you to the palace in Tortall, not that you will belong to Tortall mind. You will do great things for this world. Remember that." Mithros spoke again, this time without so much arrogance in his voice. Surely he knew this was exactly what she wanted. "If that is acceptable, prepare yourself."
"Prepare myself how?" She felt her nerves prickle like sitting at the top of a roller coaster. In Daine's books they said that when the gods transported mortals to the mortal realms they tended to get ill. She definitely didn't want to spend her first days in Tortall ill.
You will be making your first impression on a nation. It is usually customary to not look like you rolled out of bed to get there. The cat informed her and she thought of the irony of a cat making that statement.
Instantly a mirror appeared in front of her and she saw how she looked. Her dark chestnut hair was loose and tangled over her shoulders and down her chest. Her pale face and tired leaf green eyes were unadorned, make up long worn off. Her clothes were the same she had worn to bed: baggy black pajama pants and a tank top. Surely that isn't how she wanted to look when being presented to a nation. But how did she want to look? What did one wear to be presented to a world?
At first she thought of a grand gown in silver and gold cloth, hair and make up done up to the nines. But immediately she realized that wasn't practical. She didn't necessarily want to present herself as a lady of court because men at court usually considered ladies to be weak and technically property. No she didn't want to be a lady. Then she thought of wearing armor, hair left hanging down over full plate mail, and laughed at her folly. Plate mail was heavy and it would probably weigh too much for her. Besides, she wasn't a warrior and didn't want to be one. Then an image popped into mind that she knew was right. She would wear blue jeans, her favorite black boots with the short thick heel, the shirt she saw was a looser white linen with long loose sleeves that had a wide draping neck revealing a tank top the same color as her eyes. A wide black belt cinched the shirt at her waist. Her hair she would have back in a knot to keep it out of the way. It was important they see her face. And her face would have the barest minimum of make up with just a light coat of foundation and some mascara to make her eyes more pronounced. Around her neck, a necklace she had made of a piece of black leather and a large green, gold, and blue bead shaped like a leaf. As she settled on the thought the image in the mirror shifted and she saw what she had pictured.
Looking down at her clothes she saw that the image was true. She no longer wore her night things but instead wore the outfit she had imagined. Reaching up she realized her hair was pulled back into a tight knot, though she had not felt it leave her shoulders nor could remember the feeling of it on her shoulders from before. Some part of her questioned if it was a dream still. Surely she would have felt the clothing change on her body or her hair being pulled back. Surely she would have noticed the changes. But these were gods and this was their world. Didn't Daine's mother pull a section of a door frame to be a chair when they rescued Numair and Daine? Then certainly they could adjust her clothing without her noticing. What else would they do to her in this world?
"Am I subject to you in this world?" The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Around her she saw the gods hesitate. Even the lesser ones seemed a little uneasy. It seemed to be a question that they had been worried she would ask.
"You are not exactly subject to us. Since you are not a subject of this world you are protected in a sense. We can manipulate the things around you but not you directly. That includes things such as the Gift." The Goddess explained.
"So I can be shielded from an attack because that goes on the ground around me. But I cannot be healed by the Gift if the shield fails." Gwen knew what kind of problem that could be. This was a violent world. Yes her world was violent but even in the books this world seemed more likely to be the end of someone. Weapons seemed more readily available to anyone and detecting weapons was harder. But there was also no magic in her world. Her people depended on modern medicine and surgical practices. They did those sorts of things in this place too. Maybe not the more complicated open heart surgeries but they did stitches and splits and things she would more likely need. And they had medicine. Wasn't willow bark tea just a liquid aspirin anyway?
"From what we gather – yes. We don't know exactly if the Gift will have effects on you in other senses either." Mithros seemed unhappy as he said the words. From what Gwen could guess he just didn't like not knowing.
"It's worth a test among friends I guess." She sighed. "That is, if I choose to reveal it." Gwen smiled. It could be useful if she was immune to illusions, truth spells, or magical torture. She saw a smile light on what she could only assume was the Crooked God's face. "When do I go?"
Instantly she saw a doorway rise up out of the marble. At first all she could see was the cosmos beyond the empty door as it rose. Only when the door had become tall enough for Gwen could she see through it. In the distance she could see glittering lights of the palace in the dark and rolling hills of grass. It seemed she would be stepping on to the palace grounds but outside of the buildings. Then the scene changed to a stone corridor lit by glowing orbs along the walls. Maybe she would step foot inside of the palace after all.