A/N: Hello my lovelies. It's been years since I've tried to write anything, but I recently reminded myself how much I love Tortall and the urge struck. A story has been bugging me for several days now, so here's chapter one. It's an introduction of sorts. I hope you enjoy!

Clearly I do not own Tortall or any of Ms. Pierce's characters. I only own what I've come up with.


The village midwife had no Gift; she knew herbs and healing practices, but had no magic to truly intervene in medical matters. What she did have, however, was the Sight. When Endra Knoll was born, the midwife took time only to clean and wrap the babe before informing her parents that the child, when she became a child, would need instruction- preferably from a very powerful mage. The City of the Gods was of course out of the question, as was Carthak; Endra's parents were wheat farmers, and while they were able to support their own family without much of a struggle, the cost of sending a child to either of the great universities was too much. They could hope, however, to save some money each year until she was old enough to go to one of the larger towns nearby- perhaps even Blue Harbor, though that was far away- and study with any number of competent mages. The child would at least be able to cope with her Gift, if not fully master it. Even as she grew in tandem with her power, there were enough Gifted visitors to the village each year that Endra was able to function without causing serious harm to herself or anyone around her.

Of course, the constant threat of danger looming at all times takes its toll on a person. By the age of four, Endra knew not to point at or even think of anyone or anything flammable when she was angry. On her sixth birthday, while playing a game of tag with some of the village children, she let out a shriek of delight that made a rather large fissure appear in the ground; two children fell in, one broke his ankle, and all of the children stopped playing with her. One night, when she was nine or so years old, she overheard her father complaining bitterly about the unusually high incidence of weevils affecting the wheat crop; the next morning, she had to explain to the town elders that she had only meant to drive the bugs away, and hadn't intended to banish all of the town's livestock as well. Thankfully the cows hadn't gone far; the goats, however, had run almost to Galla before they could be recovered. By the time she reached her eleventh birthday, Endra knew that the only way she could live among other people without causing harm was by maintaining rigid control over her feelings, thoughts, and actions. It was better to deny her passions than to set barns on fire with a smile.

Her main mode of expression, then, became a sort of code that she learned from her mother. Taking the child in her arms one night, early on after a particularly destructive temper tantrum, Rona Knoll wiped gently at the tear tracks on her daughter's face. "I think I know a game you'll like," she murmured, ignoring the rattle of the shutters as her daughter's wracking sobs turned to whimpers. "When you feel something, whether it's bad or good, we shall give it a nickname." Endra breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of her mother's fingers through her hair, the coolness of maternal touch on fevered brow. "When you step on a twig," explained Rona, "you name it, 'Twig the vile,' and it becomes a character. A joke." The older woman sighed, her gaze distant for a moment. "Nothing to feel strongly about. Just a silly thing." She looked down at her daughter, catching the girl's eye. "Can you do that with me? Can we make the world a joke?" Endra nodded slowly, noting vaguely that the house was once again stable and silent. "Good," Rona breathed, and Endra noticed for the first time how tense her mother had been up until that moment. That, more than the agreement, weighed heavily on the girl's mind as she grew. The knowledge that her mother was in some way afraid of her kept the thrum of her Gift in check, as much as was possible.

It was an enormous stroke of luck that, just before Endra turned twelve years old, a herd of unicorns- not, thank the Gods, the carnivorous kind- settled near the village and began to trample and devour the wheat fields. As Endra's father and his neighbors happened to be not just wheat farmers, but the main suppliers of cereal grains to the northern half of Tortall, Corus was notified at once of the infestation and the Crown sent its resident Wildmage and her Gifted lover to deal with the problem.

Numair Salmalín sat astride his speckled steed and rubbed his neck, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of agitation that descended as soon as he entered the village gates. Well, not so much gates as a gap in a low wooden fence that surrounded a grassy square. Inside the fence lay two-dozen or so houses, and beyond it, several acres of wheat fields that looked as though an invading army had trampled through them. Daine, sitting astride her pony Cloud just a few paces ahead of him, glanced back with concern in her eyes. "Something wrong?" His heart swelled even as his nose began to twitch, and he shook his head with a goofy grin.

"No, my love, I don't think so," he replied, and Daine relaxed slightly in her saddle. A sharp sting in his nose sent the mage to sneezing, putting the lie to his words. Daine frowned, her hands on her hips as she waited for her man to regain control of his faculties. Numair shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his features. "Not wrong per se." He glanced around the village square, his sharp eyes assessing each house, each face he encountered. "Someone here has a very powerful Gift," he mused as drew abreast with his lover and reached for the handkerchief she offered him, "and it seems they don't quite have control of it."

"Is it malicious?" Daine asked, a hint of steel coming into her voice. It was not the first time that they had wandered into a seemingly peaceful situation only to be met with violence, but she had held high hopes that this time a herd of unicorns would be just a herd of unicorns.

Numair closed his eyes, and appeared to savor the air for a moment before shaking his head. "No, not malicious. Just undisciplined." He glanced back around the village. "I'll bet it's a child who hasn't had proper instruction." He hesitated for a moment, then looked down into the sympathetic face of his partner. "Whoever it is, I'd like to help them."

Daine smiled and dismounted, resting a hand on Cloud's neck as she walked toward the headman's home at the center of the gathering of houses. "Of course we'll help them," she agreed readily. "But let's meet the village leaders first."

Endra watched from the window of her home as the strangers walked through the village. The tall man clambered out of his saddle with a degree of clumsiness that would make a newborn calf look like the most graceful dancer. The young woman bestowed a look of such love upon him that Endra had to catch her breath from the sudden pang of loneliness that overwhelmed her; she turned from the window, closed her eyes, and muttered, "Lady Lovesick and Sir Saddleflop." Slowly the ache in her heart diminished as the visitors became nonsensical oddities, and not real people who were allowed to feel love; nothing to feel jealous of at all. She turned back to the window and watched as the headman came outside to greet the strangers, gesticulating wildly in the direction of the wheat fields. A small crowd began to draw, including Endra's father, whose grim expression mirrored those of all the farmers' in the town. The tall one turned to the woman and he seemed to speak softly to her. The woman nodded, then spoke to the assembly; her back was straight and her posture confident, instilling a measure of hope in the villagers who listened to her words. The headman turned and pointed toward where the unicorn herd had last been seen. The couple shared a glance before the man spoke again. The people in the crowd shifted uncomfortably at his words, and the headman's face went dark with displeasure. To Endra's surprise, her father stepped forward and spoke hesitantly to the visitors. He pointed toward his house, and Endra ducked from the window as the whole village seemed to turn their attention toward her home. Carefully, cautiously, she strode to the kitchen table where she was supposed to be peeling potatoes for the evening meal, ignoring the commotion drawing ever nearer to her front door. Her mother came inside from hanging up laundry to dry, having caught sight of the small crowd making its way to the house as she worked. "Endra," she called softly, "we are about to have visitors."

"Mob the friendly," Endra replied, nodding as she looked down at her hands and willed them to relax from white-knuckled fists. Rona smiled in understanding and moved to stand behind her daughter, resting her hands on the girl's shoulders just as her husband opened the front door.

"Rona," he began, his eyes surveying his family quickly. "There are some people here who would like to talk to Endra. They're..." He drifted off uncertainly, glancing back at the two strangers. "Well, they're here for the unicorns." He gestured awkwardly for the pair to come inside, trying to ignore the presence of the entire village as he shut the door behind them. "Endra, this is Master Numair Salmalín and Mistress Daine Sarrasri."

Tall Clumsy Man, apparently Master Salmalín, crouched down until he was eye-level with the girl. Endra noted how his bent legs stuck out at incredibly odd angles, his knees a considerable distance from the center of his body, and stifled a giggle. Giggles weren't usually too bad, but they usually shook things and that could be unnerving for people, especially strangers. But the man seemed to notice the flicker of amusement in Endra's eyes because he smiled wryly and tilted his head. "Hello Endra. Call me Numair. This is Daine," he added, gesturing to the woman, who Endra could see was very beautiful. "We are mages. We work for the king."

"Hello," Endra replied shyly, uncertain of how to respond to such news. She'd met mages before, of course, but never famous mages. She scrubbed her palms against the skirt of her dress, and her mother's grip on her shoulders tightened just enough to remind the girl that she was safe. Endra turned her head to lock eyes with the woman- Daine, she thought with purpose. Mage Daine. "Are you here to help with the unicorns?"

Daine nodded and smiled. "Yes, we are," she affirmed, "but we are also here to help you if you'd like."

Endra frowned, bewildered. Numair reached out and offered his hands to the young girl. "Endra, may I feel your Gift?" She tried to ignore her mother's sharp intake of breath at the question. Her father shifted uncomfortably, but remained silently watching his daughter. Endra's hands began to shake. The older mage spoke calmly, as if to a frightened animal caught in a trap. "I promise you won't hurt anything. I'm a very strong mage. I just want to see if you might be, too." He smiled again, catching Endra's eye, and she responded with a shaky smile of her own. "Just put your hands in mine," he instructed, "and concentrate on breathing evenly. You'll feel my Gift nudging yours, but please don't be frightened. I'm just going to measure your strength."

The girl's parents said nothing, they barely even breathed, as Endra considered the offer. Then, slowly, always cautious, she placed her small hands in the mage's large hands and nodded. "Ok." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and immediately felt her blood begin to tingle. In her head, she imagined a stream of black, sparkling energy threading its way through her veins, searching for something. The search did not take long; a sudden surge of marine blue energy rose to meet Numair's Gift. Endra vaguely registered a cry in the distance and shook her head, scrabbling to grasp her own Gift.

No, it's alright. There was a voice in her head, one not her own. I've got you, Endra. Your Gift won't hurt anyone. Just relax, I'm almost done. Endra nodded, eyes still closed, and slowly the foreign energy left her body. She fought to keep her breath steady until Numair spoke again- it must have been his voice in her head- and said, "Ok, my dear. You can open your eyes now."

Endra opened her eyes and blinked several times, slowly coming back to herself. She noted her mother's wide eyes and a tingling sensation on her scalp; raising a hand, she felt a halo of hair, strands that had escaped her braid, sticking straight out in all directions. "The static will fade in just a moment, but be careful not to touch anything metal until it's gone," Numair cautioned. "You'll get quite a painful shock." He drew his hands back slowly and straightened up to his full height again, leaving Endra to crick her neck in order to see his face. "Well, Mister and Mistress Knoll, your daughter has the potential to be an extremely powerful Mage," he announced cheerily. "Of course, for the good of her own wellbeing and that of your village, she should start serious instruction immediately."

"How do you propose we do that, Master Salmalín?" Endra's father, usually a soft-spoken man, stepped forward, frustration evident on his face as he crossed the room to stand with his wife and daughter. "We can't afford to save much more than the cost of fare to the nearest town in a good year, and our fields are destroyed. We'll have no crop this autumn." He gazed down at his only child, regret etched across his features, but spoke firmly. "The best we can do is hope that Gifted travelers stop by frequently, so at least she can learn to be safe."

"Tyrren," Rona admonished softly. "He was just giving advice." She smiled sadly at the king's mage. "I'm sorry, Master Salmalín. My husband means well. These are trying times."

Daine and Numair shared a long look. The Wildmage nodded and excused herself, opening the front door quietly and slipping out to deal with the unicorn infestation as Numair pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down. "I understand, Mistress Knoll. I don't mean to give empty advice. Rather, I was about to suggest that your daughter come with me and my betrothed to Corus. I wouldn't trust her instruction to anyone but the most powerful and disciplined mages in the realm." He paused and sent a wink at Endra, making her blush. "That would be me. And I suppose a few others, but mostly me." He sobered and directed his attention to the young girl's parents who stood staring at him in shock. "I promise, she would be safe and under the best care in the kingdom. We can arrange for you to come visit her as often as you can, and she could learn to truly hone her Gift."

Through this conversation, Endra had unconsciously backed up until her back was pressed against the wall, her body seeking stability as her mind struggled to process what was happening. Numair turned his head to look at the girl, compassion shining in his eyes. "Would you like that, Endra? Would you like to come study with me in Corus? I can teach you how to use your Gift so you don't have to be afraid of it anymore."

"Oh, yes." The words came out as a sigh as the girl felt hope blossom in her heart for the first time in her life. "Can I? Mother? Father? Please, can I go?" She turned toward her parents, her face lit with an inner light. Tyrren Knoll nodded, unable to speak, and his wife sobbed quietly at his side as they realized that they had never seen their daughter truly happy before. He reached for Rona's hand and squeezed gently as Endra transformed from a timid mouse of a girl into an ecstatic child and ran to throw her arms around the mage's neck. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

Numair grinned and patted the girl gently on the back, noticing on the periphery of his mind that jars and pots were starting to shake on the kitchen shelves as Endra's excitement grew. He pulled back and placed his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Until we can start your training, I would like to help you contain your gift so that things like this," he gestured to the room, "stop happening so frequently. Is that alright with you?" His new student nodded eagerly, relief washing over her, and he smiled. "Alright. Close your eyes and visualize your Gift, like we did earlier, ok?"

Endra nodded, her eyes slamming shut, and began to regulate her breath. That same black strand of Gift wound its way back up her arms and toward her core, meeting with the blue power that pulsed within her. Numair's Gift stretched and wove until it became a gossamer-light net, which he placed gently around Endra's Gift. Immediately she felt her power, which had been crashing like waves inside of her, relax into a gentle steady pulse, and the girl breathed a sigh of relief as the shelves and walls in her home stopped shaking. She opened her eyes, and Numair nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Good. Very good, Endra."

The front door opened slowly and Daine poked her head into the room. "The unicorns have moved on," she announced cheerfully. "I explained to them the difference between natural meadows and human-made fields, and they apologized swiftly. You should have time to plant winter wheat at least, and the harvest will go untouched." She looked around the room, taking in the Knolls' stunned faces and the absolute delight emanating from the girl, and strode to stand with Numair. "I see you've kept your promise to help," she murmured, gazing up into his eyes with a beatific smile. "Am I to assume that we'll have a travelling companion back to Corus?"

"You are indeed, my Magelet," Master Salmalín replied with a grin. "Meet my new apprentice."