Richenda woke to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the wooden wall that was all that stood between her and Haven. Around her, the others hadn't woken yet. That was a good thing. Because this time, just before the sun crested the horizon, was the only time she could be alone. Beside her was Janice, her fellow servitor, snoring. The two of them delivered drinks and food of questionable quality to the patrons of The Clinking Purse, avoided the advances of inebriated men, and sometimes women, and cleaned between customer rushes. Despite the fact that they did exactly the same job, got paid exactly the same (Nothing) and were yelled at equally, Janice had never responded to her overtures of friendship. The girl was remarkably closed off, her Empathy could barely influence her. Where life had made Richenda stronger (She liked to think so, the alternative was not worth contemplating), Janice just seemed beaten down. The general weal of folk round here near Exiles' Gate.
Will, the pot-boy, was mute and sullen, but he would obey any orders unquestioningly.
Cook had her own alcove near the door, separated from her lowly subjects by a tattered curtain. She ruled the Kitchens (Such as they were) with a metal ladle Richenda had quickly learned to fear. Her husband was the Bartender, a great bear of a man who looked at everyone with mistrust.
And that was the paltry staff of the Clinking Purse.
They lived in the small servant's quarters up in the attic.
Richenda supposed she was better off than most.
But she still thought there should be something more to life than endless drudgery.
The Tavern's owner, a whipcord thin woman who called herself Ace lived elsewhere. By Exile's Gate standards, she was one of the better-offs. As far as she knew Ace owned multiple Taverns like this, and there were rumors that she engaged in less law-abiding activities. But, who hadn't?
Janice rolled over and her thin arm smacked Richenda on the forehead.
"Ow." She mumbled under her breath, hoping to delay her waking up, but it was no use, Janice sat up and rubbed her eyes blearily. Looked like someone had gotten into the wine cellars. Richenda observed smugly, not envying her her headache. She had gotten dunk once, and she hated the out of control feeling she found herself in. You couldn't survive if you didn't have all your wits about you. But the smugness soon dissipated. This would put Cook in a bad mood, and Bad-mood days were not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.
Everyone else was waking. Richenda sighed. Today was going to be a long, long day.
Fill the mugs. Deliver the mugs brimming with poor quality ale that people still seemed to want to drink. Collect the money, dodge that man passed out on the rush-covered floor that the bouncer hadn't thrown out yet. Things became a pattern, with variables that themselves were expected. Richenda was tired, harried, and despite herself, bored.
As such, it was a relief when something happened.
Brawls weren't unknown, but the Clinking Purse had a reputation for a relatively brawl-free drinking den.
And when the occasional brawl did start, it was usually broken up quickly.
Not this time.
Richenda thought she knew how it started. A group of toughs had been arguing at the table closest to the smoking hearth, and a foreign looking weasel of a man had knocked over one of the toughs' drinks. She didn't see the first punch, but she heard it. A jaw-cracking sound of flesh on flesh. The half-heated chatter of the regulars, come here to drown their sorry lives in drink stopped.
"Whad'ya do that for Karsite?" The tough snarled. Richenda positioned herself just behind the bar, the better to see what at would happen, and the better to get out of the way. Valdemar and Karse were supposed to be at peace. Richenda had heard all sorts of wild rumors how the two age-long enemy countries had banded together to stop King Ancar, a decidedly nasty man if even half of the gossip was true. And other news said that the Karsites had helped as well to somehow magically end the mage storms. Could be true, could not be, but Richenda knew that not all was well between the two peoples, especially among the desperate people here in Exile's gate.
"An accident. Sorry." Mumbled the weasel-man through a jaw swelling at an alarming rate.
"Accident? My bloody foot!" The tough snarled. And things descended into chaos from there. The bouncer, Richenda had never found out her name, not wanting to approach the scary, hardened ex-mercenary woman who came every night to keep the peace, advanced to break things up. But the tough was having none of that.
"Stay away woman." He said. Somehow the bouncer tripped, and fell onto another man who quickly got up, fists flailing wildly, connecting with this erstwhile drinking partner.
It would have been funny if Richenda wasn't worried for her safety. The tables were shoved or thrown aside and soon Richenda couldn't make out where one body started and the next ended. Insults were thrown, curses blistered the already flaking paint, some bright spark decide to use his heavy tankard as a weapon, and the sound of it connecting with someone's head was rather sickening. Richenda watched with at sinking heart.
Wasn't there a Shin'a'in curse 'May your life be interesting.'? She had wanted something to happen, and something had happened, but not like this.
The watch would come soon, she hoped, behind the bar wouldn't be safe for long.
A slight youth, with just the shadow of a beard and a swelling face came flying over the bar and crashed into the rack of questionable brews, they toppled over, crushing him and shattering on the splintery planked floor. Richenda winced as she was drenched in strong spirits and ale. She had to move. Sparing a glance for the young man, she saw he was still alive. The part of her that wanted to survive told her to get the hell out of the way, she was no fighter. But the other part, a part long subdued told her if she didn't so something, and quick, the youth would die. Cursing under her breath, she crawled over to him.
The rack had trapped his right leg, he was moaning feebly, trying to get unstuck. Richenda pushed the rack, but it wouldn't move. A shadow fell over her. Looking up she saw Will standing over her. He silently pushed her out of the way, then pushed the rack off the man with ease. He gestured to the man's feet, and grabbed him under the armpits. Richenda picked up his feet and together they jammed the young men into the alcove that concealed the cellar entrance form casual view.
"He's bleeding." Richenda said unnecessarily. Will raised an eyebrow. Richenda sighed and cast around for a rag to stop the flow of blood from a nasty looking gash on the man's forehead. Lacking anything else, she ripped some cloth off of her ruined skirt. Will took it out of her hands and deftly bound it around the youth's forehead.
"How'd you know how to do that?" She asked curiously. Will shrugged. Immediate crisis over, Richenda looked over at the main brawl. All the drunks were still going strong, somehow, the door had been busted off of its hinges, and a few sensible people, with a few insensibles thrown in stumbled out into the street that was disappointingly empty of passerby. She felt a weight on her shoulder, dragging her down.
"Why did you-"Richenda hissed angrily at Will, but stopped when a tankard crashed onto the wall, right where her head had been.
"Let me go!" A shrill voice cred over the lower rumbles and grunts of the ongoing fight. Despite Will's frantic hand signals, Richenda risked a peek. Janice was trying to fend off two of the original toughs, who had cornered her by the hearth.
"We've got to help her." Richenda said. Will sighed and shook his head. His eyes calling her crazy. All the same, before her insane bit of courage left her, Richenda darted out form behind the bar and ran towards them, sticking close to the wall and jumping over the prostrate form of the Bartender. Richenda's resolve nearly left her when she saw the great brawler knocked out, but all the same, she grabbed a fireplace poker and charged the nearest tough.
She didn't mean to seriously hurt him, just distract him do Janice could run away , somehow the sharp poker found it's way into the man's back, and he fell over with a cry, beefy arms grabbing for the length of metal embedded I his back.
"Crap." Richenda cursed. She was still processing what she had done, recalling an instance not so long ago where she had used a fireplace poker in much the same way, when the tough's companion, armed with a painful looking cudgel, raised it with a yell. For the second time of the night, someone pushed Richenda over. It was Janice; the club meant for her head hit Janice's shoulder instead. Richenda could hear the bone shattering, and Janice fell on top her. The tough did not get a chance to finish the job because Will had picked up the poker and hit him on the base of is skull with the wooden handle.
Richenda, gently pushed Janice off her. For a moment, Will stared at Janice. Then his eyes lost his ever-present sullen look. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and seemed to lose consciousness.
"Will? What are you doing? We have to go before the watch comes!" Richenda hissed. However, Will did not acknowledge her, Janice moaned softly and Richenda looked around wildly. Usually a brawl would be over by now, but infuriated drunkards were still going strong. Moreover, there was a sickening number of people lying unmoving against the walls. This was much too out of control. Then Richenda remembered and cursed herself for a gods-dammed idiot.
Why are you doing this 'chenda? Her mind asked her furiously. However, Richenda got up and inched over to the bar. She climbed on top of the bar and marched to the middle. Some paid attention to her and some did not. Trusting to who-knows-what Richenda shut her eyes and called upon the power she had always had. She fueled her frustration and anger, fright and desperation into one word that ripped out of her in a throat-rendering scream.
"STOP!"
Everyone stopped. Freezing in place, a moment of silence that could have lasted for an eternity ensured. Then, as if waking up from a spell, the fighters slowly separated. Looking around in confusion, tension started to build up. Richenda's command was broken when four men in Watch-blue entered the bar and looked around in consternation at the wreckage of the taproom. The tallest shrugged and gestured to other guards outside still.
"Arrest them all." His eyes met Richenda's, standing on top of the bar, shaking with emotion let loose. She smiled weakly and collapsed. What happened next was anyone's guess.
Her head hurt. It hurt more than any headache she had ever had in her life. It was like the brawl, only going on inside her head. She tried to open her eyes, but found she was unable to muster the will to open them fully. Besides, the light was so very bright, and it magnified her headache tenfold. She tried to fall back asleep, but now that she was aware of the pain, she could not just ignore it. It was all encompassing, debilitating. There was something she should be worried about; this was not her pallet in the attic…but she couldn't muster the will to remember.
Someone was shaking her shoulder gently. Richenda groaned and feebly tried to push them away.
"Wake up. Wake up." Her head still hurt, though to a lesser degree than before, whenever before was. She succeeded in opening her eyes and blinked in confusion at what she saw. She was in a small cell made of stone. More she couldn't see from the position she was currently in, which seemed to be half sitting, half lying on a narrow bed.
"Oh thank goodness you're awake!" The voice said. Richenda recognized it as Janice. Janice's narrow face came into her field of vision, mousy blond hair and tired eyes.
"Where…" Richenda tried, reaching up to rub her aching head.
"We're in a holding cell in Bow-bender streets' guardhouse. They say we'll be released soon. You and Will have been out cold for the past day and a half leaving me all alone to deal with those guards!" Janice was working herself into hysterics.
"Why, why does my head hurt?" Richenda mumbled. Janice shrugged.
"Maybe you took a blow to the head, same as Will." Or maybe not Richenda thought. Then another incongruity occurred to her.
"Why do you look so healthful? You're shoulder was smashed less than two days ago!" Janice looked uncomfortable.
"I think Will healed it. At least a bit, it only feels like I've pulled it now. Creepy, right?"
"Will has the healing gift?" Richenda was incredulous.
"Guess so." Janice seemed reluctant to talk about it. The door to their cell opened and a young man with a wild crop of curly, black to the point of blue hair entered. He wore the Green of the few Healers Richenda had seen in her short life.
"I'm Healer Arche; I do the rounds of the guardhouses in this part of the city." He said curtly. Janice stood up.
"Richenda and Will have crazy headaches." She announced. The Healer gave her a ghost of a smile,
"And are you hurt?"
"My shoulder was broken, but Will mostly healed it for me."
"What?" The Healer was shocked. Richenda looked at Will, who just stirring.
"He's got the healing gift?" The Healer continued. Janice shrugged.
"Guess so." Looking Janice over with a practiced eye, he told her to sit and that he would examine her shoulder in a moment. Arche walked over to Will and crouched down so they were on eye level.
"Will?" The healer said. Richenda looked with envy at Will, who seemed to be suffering from a headache to a much lesser degree than she was.
"I'm just going to check to make sure you're okay." The healer said, and waited.
"He doesn't speak." Janice added. The healer frowned, but Will nodded his head ever so slightly. Richenda watched with interest as healer Arche entered the same trance like state she had seen Will go in to the night of the brawl. He was not in it for long, and when the healer stood up, he wobbled slightly.
"Young man, you have one of the strongest healing gifts I've ever seen. Third year healer trainees could not heal a shattered shoulder so quickly and in one session. Not to mention that you've done this with no training." Will's eyes widened, but he looked relieved.
"You are suffering from a reaction headache. Comes with using your gift to much. The only thing to cure it is time and this tea which will help dull the pain." Will nodded. Turning from him, the healer walked over to Jancie.
"May I look at your shoulder?"
"Yeah." Quickly, the healer placed his hands, one on either side of her shoulder, and pulled.
"OW!" Cried Janice. "Whad'ya do that for?"
"Apologies, but your shoulder was dislocated. It would have hurt a lot more if you had time to work yourself up about me having to pop it back into place."
"You don't have to do any healing power thing on me do you?"
"No, you just need to take it easy, try not to use your shoulder. If you're to be believed, Will did the necessary work on you already." Richenda watched with interest as this man put everyone at ease, and Richenda was willing to bet he didn't have her particular bent for persuasion.
This time the healer turned to her, and Richenda unconsciously shrank away. One thing to watch him help the others. Nevertheless, her? Richenda didn't like any man to get too close to her. Even if this one seemed harmless and like he wanted to help, (as much as any person who regularly tended the denizens of Exile's Gate could.)
"I'm not going to hurt you." He reassured. Richenda wasn't reassured.
"I'm fine except for this blasted headache."
"Were you hit in the head?"
"No."
"The why do you have a headache?"
"I think it's like Will's."
"You have the healing gift?"
"No, but." Richenda took a chance. "I can um, control people's emotions sometimes. And I sorta made everyone stop during the brawl."
"Control emotions?" Janice said. "This is way too freaky." And just like that, Janice lost her newfound friendliness to Richenda. The healer looked worried, and intrigued.
"Have you ever felt anyone's emotions before?"
"I don't feel people's emotions, I just, nudge them a little." For some reason Richenda felt the need to defend herself. The healer rubbed his head.
"What are the chances? Two gifted individuals in the same place!" He mumbled.
"Will Will have to go to the Healer's Collegium?" Asked Richenda.
"You too." He said reluctantly. Richenda tried to wrap her fuddled mind around those two words.
"But I'm not a healer." She said at length.
"No, but two gifts like this can't be allowed to be untrained. I'll bring you two to someone who actually knows what to do with you." The healer said.
"And Janice?" Richenda said.
"I want nothing to do with gifts and healers. As soon as we're released, I'm outa here." She said firmly.
The tall guard who commanded the round up at the Clinking Purse strolled by their cell.
"Hurry would you Arche? We have holding cells full of angry and battered, hungover men." He said politely but forcefully, he completely ignored the three children in the cell.
"I'm coming Captain, I'm coming."
"Well, that was an adventure." Richenda said, rubbing her aching head as she and Will walked out of the guardhouse. Really, why was the sun so bright? Will said nothing, just walked over to the nearby fountain with a statue of a rather ugly woman and a equally ugly dog in the center. He dunked his head under the water. Richenda decided that was a good idea and joined him. The water certainly helped to wake her up.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Richenda turned around warily, but relaxed when she saw the lanky form of Healer Arche.
"Come to take us away then?" Richenda asked. Arche nodded.
"Anything you need to take care of here?" Will quickly shook his head and Richenda stopped for a moment to think. Anywhere was better than here. She was homeless, jobless and money less, not a good position for a girl like her to be in. She had no family here. The thought of family brought her thought perilously close to the brink of remembering Before. However, not too far. What did she have to lose?
"No." Richenda said.
"Good then, my shift down her is over anyways, lucky I was planning to return to the Collegia soon." The Healer said.
"Come on then." He turned and walked away, Richenda hurried to follow him with Will in close pursuit.
"Welcome to the Collegiums." Healer Arche said grandly. "Over there we have Bardic and that tall stone building on the far side of Companion's Field in the Herald's Collegium. However, we are not going there. We're going to the Healer's Collegium; one of the best places to study medicine in all of Valdemar…" He trailed off as he noticed that none of the two children was paying attention. Instead, they were staring at a Companion decked out on blue barding and tinkling silver bells.
"Bet you've never seen a Companion before eh?" He said. Will turned to look back at him but Richenda remained, staring at the Companion trotting towards the gate in the wall that led to Haven proper. As if in a trance, Richenda ignored the Healer and Will, and started walking towards the Companion.
"Hey now, where're you going? There's plenty of time to see Companions and the like, this one's on search, don't interrupt!" Healer Arche called. Richenda kept walking, she didn't know why but she felt attracted towards the gleaming white horse. The Companion stopped suddenly, in confusion. Then turned towards the girl in grubby clothes walking towards it.
"What're you doing?" Demanded Healer Arche. Richenda didn't answer him, she had eyes only for the horse, getting bigger as it easily ate up the distance separating them.
Richenda should have been scared. But she wasn't, she had gone through too much to be scared of a shining white horse approaching her at a run. It stopped just before it would have run over her. Richenda vaguely knew that Will and the Healer were approaching her, but she only had eyes for the Companion. And in turn, the Companion looked at her with bright, blue eyes.
: Hi, I choose you. My name is Gjerah. What's yours?