About the Story

Title: Another Face (previously Of Nations and No One)

Author: cybErdrAgOn, aka Athena

Rating: PG13

Projected Length: 30-40 chapters if I ever finish—this is definitely not set in concrete

Organization: Four parts, the titles of which will appear as soon as I have finished with each one

Summary: One grain of rice can tip the scale. One brilliant child can change history. She knows not why she left her world of mathematics and computers, but her newest task is a daunting one. One child has the potential to help the warring nation of Tortall, using the unique blend of talents from both the past and the future. But the future has bred independence and thoughtfulness, neither of which lead towards blind obedience. In the minds of those in power, the question is, of course, will she help?

Disclaimer: I own none of Tamora Pierce's characters, plots, or central ideas; all that I own are the original character Alceta and some auxiliary characters. Anything which you recognize as yours or of another author's is not mine.

Chapter One: Unlikely

Alice was a product of her age, a contemplative, unemotional shadow of a 9-year-old who could often be found typing fiery statements against some new global issue on the Nets or jotting down notes on theories of elasticity. She had no knowledge of food preparation, or hunting, which was strictly forbidden, or even how to accept incorrect authorities, but there was no need. What the world needed then was geniuses, young minds that rivaled the greatest scientists of all time. And Alice had the qualities to prosper in such a society; she was talented, logical, and viewed life with a critical eye. With her, and hundreds of other children, scientific advancements flew out of the laboratories at an astonishing rate, and money and honor flew into their pockets just as quickly until they became the "master race", commanding the wealthy and the famous as well as the weak and stupid.

As she walked through the transparent Lexan tunnel connecting two sections of the apartment complex, a little girl, for all the inspiration in her head and books in her arms, a soft breeze ruffled her hair and shirt. Her arms shook slightly as if they were cold, but the air was just comfortably warm in the aerial sidewalk. Rather, she was nervous, more nervous than she had been for a long, long time.

She continued past empty cubicles and locked doors until she reached 498 and stopped. Glinting gold drew her attention, and nothing more, yet it glowed briefly, the numbers rearranging themselves into words. "Reign of King Jonathan the IV and Queen Thayet." "Crown of Tortall." "Prince Roald and Lady Alceta." Each lasted for no more than a second and Alice passed by quickly; it was probably just some newbie's idea of a joke.

"Alice."

The girl tossed a dark ponytail over her shoulder and glanced back, hoping to see a classmate or an old acquaintance, but there was no one in the hallway. It was empty as the streets down below, and yet, the voice was real.

"My daughter, your time has come." Melodic and sad, all at once, the voice spread until it engulfed the tiny figure and pulled her closer to its source.

"I am not your daughter," replied Alice sharply, her face smooth and impassive as she had been taught. "And it is not in your turn to tell me about my time. I make my own choices." Doubtless it was a prank, but she couldn't help but tremble as the outline of a woman materialized from the shadows of a corner.

She is beautiful, too, thought Alice, even though she had come into contact with very few adults. The environment of The Academy was designed to keep fresh thoughts sprouting up and to eliminate stifling outside influences. Usually, that meant that those older than 20 were separated from the youth, who were taught by the AI or by slightly older helpers who had flunked out of the main programs.

But the woman was different, she could sense, something different from anyone she had seen before. Perfect, blood red lips graced ivory skin; even from such a distance, she was tall, taller than anyone Alice had seen before. Dark strands of hair framed her face, a sort of unearthly expression calmly imposed upon it.

A trace of a smile flitted across her face before she replied softly, "You are my daughter," and the final word was just short of a cry in her husky voice. "For I am the Mother Goddess." She let her hand fall to her side and nodded once at the little girl shouting defiance in her face.

"I don't believe in God!" Even as she spoke, her legs trembled under the strain—who would have thought that she was the one to be singled out, caught unawares? Alice was surprised but blinked twice and continued calmly, "And even if I did…you do not quite fit the ideal, a consideration that causes me to ask for your intentions." Nine-year-old logic was all but infallible when confronted with some barely perceptible danger, and hers was one of the best there was. Or so all the teachers thought.

"Alice, the world needs you."

"I'm helping it right now."

"No, the world needs you more. Come with me, and you shall see for yourself." The enigmatic smile returned, almost luring her to take just one more step, believe one more lie. Until she exploded.

"Do you really expect me to listen?" she shook uncontrollably. "Stop playing the fool—or trying to make me join your game. Robert, turn the projector off right now!" There was a sneer carved across a creamy pale face, and it looked to be etched in white marble, unyielding, impersonal. Alice was all that the Goddess had thought.

Slowly the Goddess shook her head, then beckoned her come closer. "I will show you the world that needs you, and you will decide, my child. I cannot force you, but you have a brilliant mind. I trust you to make a fitting decision."

Alice gazed up into emerald orbs and inclined her head a fraction of an inch. Immediately flashes of color began to fly by her eyes; they were scenes of destruction, wasteland, poverty, despair, and all that existed in a nation falling into the abyss of warfare. When the visions paused, she stepped back on trembling legs before meeting the Goddess with hard eyes.

"I'm sorry, but no. Nothing you can offer is worth leaving, if there even is a place like that."

The woman gave her a final pleading look before turning around and sweeping up her billowing skirts. She moved smoothly, silently, but pain showed in her bowed head and lilted gait. A look of deep disappointment settled onto her stately figure, gave her a tired expression. The proud but despondent aura surrounding the Mother Goddess encouraged even reticent Alice to part her lips and call out softly, "Could you come back here for a moment?"

It hurt her pride, the cool sense of right and wrong that could not possibly be mistaken. And yet, it just was. Alice did not want to admit her error, but she had a sudden desire to speak with this Goddess again. Like the mythology of the ancient Greeks and Romans, a supposed immortal had descended from the heavens to converse with herself, and from the standpoint of a theologian, the experience would have been fascinating. Even by her own standards, she felt a strange attraction to the woman that stretched deeper than prior commitments and thoughts. Suddenly logic was unimportant.

She swallowed hard before raising her gaze off the sterilized tile floors, feeling the hand of the Goddess looming above her head every inch of the way. "I…just wanted to say that, fine, I'll give it a try. I give my consent," she added, assuming the formal tone once more. "Will that be enough?"

"Indeed, it will," smiled the Goddess. "Close your eyes now." Alice obeyed, though wearily, and opened them again as soon as she was allowed. Pale white mists swirled around the pair, briefly forming pictures of beautiful, exotic lands faraway. Towering mountain peaks lost in hazy clouds, followed by a smooth, calm river, and lacy patches of light on the forest floor were both scenery and story, a story long and epic that had yet to be written.

As much as she wanted to see more, they faded into each other just as quickly, leaving nothing but wisps of greens and browns behind. Deep brown eyes were wide with curiosity and wonder, and at that, the Goddess laughed a soft, rich laugh.

"Now do you see, my daughter? Though you are an unlikely one, you will make more of a difference in this world than in the one from which you came."

Alice was silent for a moment and closed her eyes before answering in the low voice of a child who had her expectations and hopes dashed to pieces. "I was going to be a famous mathematician before, and you tell me that living on a farm in the middle of the wilderness will help?"

"You will be of use! I cannot afford to waste time!" boomed a voice from above, whose speaker was invisible. Alice shuddered.

The Goddess narrowed her lips slightly and sighed. "Alice, remember what I tell you now. You are an unlikely one, but I feel sure that you are right. Rest now, fall into slumber, for a long day will be upon you soon, daughter."

Stony-faced and stiff-legged, Alice took the advice and let her eyelids flutter shut.