Christa was floating in a kind of gray mist. It swirled around her entire body, and while it was not cold, it made her uncomfortable. She had the disconcerting sense of watching a scene with herself in it, though her eyes were most definitely shut. She saw herself, cradled protectively by Damon, on a solid sheet of ice. She was positive it was not snow; it was far too glassy-smooth and reflective.

          But that was not what made Christa shudder inwardly with fear. The ice sprang up abruptly in the very center of the abnormal sheet of ice in an irregular, spiky, crystal-like formation. That in itself was extraordinary, but what made her freeze in horror was that there was a man inside that block of ice. It was, most definitely, her attacker. It did not look like he would be attacking anyone anytime in the near future. Or any future, for that matter. His face was frozen in an arrogant expression of shock and surprise, as if his last thoughts were "How could this happen to me?" It was, in a word, ghastly.

          Did I do that? Christa asked herself in shock. No. I couldn't have done that. I'm going to be a Herald, and Herald's don't have Gifts that can do that.

          She shifted her "eyes" away in time to see two Heralds come racing up on their Companions. The Companions skidded to a stop just as they reached the circle of ice, and the Heralds jumped off. One had dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes, while his companion was much shorter than him with red-gold curls tumbling around her face. Both landed gracefully on their feet and half-walked, half-slid their way over to Christa and Damon. Christa felt distantly warmer as she watched the woman wrap her in a blanket, and the man lift her into his arms.

          At the point where the Heralds started talking in hushed voices, and Damon slowly lumbered to his feet, Christa felt her "eyes" straining, and quickly "closed" them. Instantly, the scene faded from her mind, and she was once again enveloped in the mist. Only, this time, it was a cool mist with a comforting presence she knew had to derive from Damon. He was letting her know it was all right to relax now. Well, she wasn't one to disagree with that right now. Christa gave herself up to the mist and let it take her into the blackness.

                                                                             *        *        *

          Christa spent most of her time in the swirling mist. She knew she was safe, and Damon was always a comforting presence in the back of her mind. She also knew that she had quite a few people worried. She could always sense someone in the room with her. She wasn't quite sure how she was sensing them, but she was. And as to where "here" was, well, she could only assume Haven. It was where they had been headed, after all.

          Every once and a while, someone would prod her into a half-wakefulness. Then, she would be half-carried to a bath or the privy, or forced to sit up and eat something. Other than that, she watched in that odd, distorted vision, seeing herself as part of a scene. She "saw" herself in a bed in a small room. No matter how many times she "looked", there was always a Herald in the room with her, or a student in gray clothing.

          After this routine of "looking", waking, and sleeping became quite a habit, Christa awoke one day on her own. She blinked in the dim light coming from the fireplace across from her and took a good look around. The chair next to her bed was occupied by a sleeping boy in gray clothing, who appeared to be perhaps a year or two older than herself. She decided not to wake him just yet.

          Christa slowly moved her eyes around the room, then her head, as she actually took in her surroundings. They were identical to the ones she had been "seeing" while in the mist. No, not identical. She told herself. These are those same surroundings. But she soon discovered that this just muddled her brain further. She slowly started to sit up, and the boy in the chair next to her woke with a start, as though someone had kicked him, though she'd made hardly a sound. Maybe they weren't dreams. Maybe I just thought I was dreaming because my brain was so foggy...

          "Oh, so you're awake, are you?" The boy asked her cheerfully, if a bit groggily. He had blue-black hair that fell over one eye with a slight wave, and the most charming blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. They were dark, but where they could have looked sinister, she saw only compassion and a depth that shook her to her core. She couldn't exactly explain why, but she knew, far better than she had ever known anything before, that she could trust this boy. It was almost as if he were a long-lost childhood friend.

          Christa realized she was staring, and shook herself out of her reverie. She managed a shaky smile for him. "Where am I? Am I in Haven?" She asked, surprised at the raspy, unused sound of her voice.

          "Right in the very heart. You are currently in the room you will use while a Herald-Trainee. The Healers said you just needed rest, so we left you to it, helping you where it was needed." He smiled charmingly, faint dimples showing on his cheeks.

          Christa was about to ask him his name when he jumped slightly and laughed. When she stared at him, he took pity on her and explained. "Diana just reminded me that it is custom to give people a name by which to call you, so I apologize. My name is Gabriel."

          "Mine is Christa." Christa managed, thinking Gabriel was a lovely name.

          "Pleased to meet you, Christa. Though I do wish it could have been on much better terms." Gabriel said, flashing her that winning smile once again. After a moment of silence she realized she was staring again--but he was doing the same. The sound of a shuffle from outside her door snapped her out of the trance she'd been in, and she glanced quickly at the door before her gaze slid back to Gabriel suspiciously.

          "Why did you say you were in here again?" Christa asked, allowing the tiniest ounce of suspicion to enter her voice. Gabriel smiled at her brightly, and for the life of her, Christa could not tell if he was truly sincere with his answer, or if he was a superb liar.

          "I'm here to make sure no one disturbed you until you woke, and to see if there was anything you needed."

          "I see." Christa said cautiously. She didn't think he was lying, but he just might not know anything other than what he'd told her. It was at that moment that Christa put a few things together in her slowly clearing brain. If I wasn't dreaming before, then that man...that horrible man.... Christa felt her expression ice over as the blood drained from her face.

          "Are you all right?" Gabriel asked in real concern, standing and taking a hesitant step towards her.

          "I...What happened to the man? What did they do with him?" Christa asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

          "What happened to whom? There was no one with you when you were brought in." Gabriel was frowning now, his brows drawing together in consternation.

          He doesn't know. No one told him. I guess this is supposed to be a secret....but why?

          :Because you are special, Chosen, and many very evil people would love nothing more than to see to it that you were no longer around.: Damon's voice sounded in her mind, cool and reasonable. Christa visibly jumped, having forgotten that Damon could bespeak her like that.

          But he would never hurt me. He's going to be a Herald!

          :There are reasons why no one has been told as of yet, Chosen.: Damon replied sternly. Christa hated to be told what to do, by a Companion, or otherwise.

          "Gabriel--"

          "Gabe, please. No one ever calls me Gabriel unless I'm in trouble, or it's a formal occasion. "Gabriel said, interrupting her and flashing that dazzling smile again.

          "All right, Gabe then; what are your Gifts?" Christa said, feeling an answering smile tug at her lips.

          Gabe seemed more than a little taken aback at her bluntness, but replied with that special smile on his face. "I have a mortal strong Mage Gift, a strong Foresight Gift, an equally strong Firestarter Gift, and adequate Mindspeech." This announcement left Christa a little breathless. She didn't know very much about Heralds, but she knew that they usually only had about two or three Gifts, sometimes even one. Gabe had four. "I heard one of your Gifts broke lose. Do you know what your Gifts are?" Gabe asked gently. That's interesting, Christa thought. He knows my Gift broke lose, but not anything about it other than it might be a touchy subject.

          "I...I'm really not sure. I might be a Mage, I guess..." Christa said hesitantly, feeling the place in her mind where Damon resided tense abruptly and give her the equivalent of a mental kick, sending her sprawling over the side of the bed. Luckily, her brain wasn't so fogged she couldn't get a grip on the bedpost and save herself. "Damon! That was not nice!" She yelled at the air, without thinking. As soon as she realized she'd spoken aloud, she turned an embarrassingly bright shade of crimson and shot a guilty look at Gabe. But Gabe only grinned at her.

          "Damon is your Companion, I'll wager? Gave you a little shove, did he? I take it no one is supposed to know about your Gift?" Gabe said, his eyes showing he understood. "Usually First Years at the Collegium don't know what their Gifts are. You don't get them trained until usually the Fourth or Fifth years, and that's when you find out. If your Gift is so strong now, the Heralds might even block it until they feel you have the skill you need to control it."

          "I don't think they could do that in this case..." Christa said softly, after a moment of thoughtful silence. She'd never heard of a Gift like the one she had. How would she learn to control her Gift if there was no one around who could teach it? Visions of herself, a full Herald, and out on the job sprang to her mind. People startling her, or trying to attack her suddenly turning to ice. What if she had a nightmare and she accidentally did that to someone? Damon would repudiate her, that's what. She would be the second Herald in the history of all of Valdemar to have her Companion repudiate them. She most certainly did not want to be another Tylendel.

          :You won't be, Chosen. I love you, and I would never leave you. Gala made a mistake when she repudiated her Chosen. That is a mistake no Companion will ever make again. I will always be here for you, Christa. Never forget that.: Damon's voice swept through the hot turmoil in her mind like a cool, refreshing wind.

          Gabe was watching her as if he were waiting for her to elaborate, but at the moment when she could have, there was a soft knock on her door. As Christa's eyes moved to the door, it opened to reveal a pretty woman in pristine Whites. She was about average height for a woman of her age--about 40, Christa guessed--and she moved with the grace of a predator. Her amber-colored eyes looked from Christa to Gabe in an assessing way, before locking on Christa. She tossed her loose, dark curls over her shoulder as she stepped into the room.

          "I hope you'll pardon my intrusion, but we really must talk. I already know that you are Christa, so let me introduce myself to you. I am Herald Donelle, the current Queen's Own. Gabriel, you may go back to your duties now. I can take it from here." Donelle said to Christa, with that last addressed to Gabe. Christa remembered what Gabe had said about no one calling him Gabriel unless he was in trouble or the situation was formal. It was obvious he wasn't in trouble, so this must be a formal occasion. Then again, she was the Queen's Own. Maybe she's never on an informal basis with anyone. Then a colder thought replaced that one, as Gabe nodded, bowing formally to Donelle before taking himself out and quietly closing the door behind him.

          Maybe I'm in trouble. I did kill that man. I didn't mean to--at least I don't think I did--but it was still murder, and that is most definitely against Valdemarian law. Christa felt all the remaining blood drain from her face. She's come to take me away from Damon and tell me that I can't be a Herald. She's come to tell me I'm to be sentenced to death.

          :Chosen, you are being quite irrational. She cannot take you away from me; I simply will not let her. I told you before, but I will say it again. I will never, ever leave you. Not for anything. Donelle is the Queen's Own, which means she has a Companion of her own. She knows very well that it is not possible to separate a Herald from their Companion. It is a very painful ordeal for both parties involved. Not to mention I would kick in her knee caps for attempting such a thing, regardless of what her Taver would do to me.: Damon's "tone" was stern, and Christa couldn't help but believe every word he said. She didn't think it was even possible to lie mind-to-mind like this.

          "Now, " Donelle was saying, taking a seat in the chair Gabe had vacated after turning it to face the bed. "About this Gift of yours."