A/N: Just want to say thank-you to all those who've reviewed, I'm always interested in what you have to say. And to all of you who read and don't review(and if you're reading this you know who you are!!!) you're not going to get the cool. . . .err. . .pair of socks I'm sending out to Sparkles- Chan and Rachel!(not really you guys, but they don't know that. Shhh!!!!!!!) Okay, that's enough incessant rambling on my part, on with the story.

Oh! And if you value your sanity and are passing through or live in a suburb of Chicago, don't drink the water!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1 Chapter 4

"Sorry I'm late," Raine apologized hurriedly as she ran into the training arena, clothed in the practice gear that had been laid out for her, "I slept in."

"It's almost noon," Lucivar, whom Raine recognized as the Eryien that had been in Jaenelle's conference room yesterday, growled, "If it happens again you'll be running laps for a week."

Raine swallowed deeply but was saved from feeling too intimidated by movement out from the corner of her eye.

"Hell's fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful!" she thought darkly, "Why does HE have to be here?"

Daemon Sadi was sitting on the ground sipping a drink. Making eye contact, he smiled and waved pleasantly, adjusting his position to make himself more comfortable.

"Oh great," Raine's thoughts turned more thunderous, "now he's going to watch me get my ass kicked by a bunch of preteens."

"Anyway," Lucivar interrupted her thoughts, "To begin, Luthvian is going to put you through a light sparring exercise to see what you can do."

"Great. . .terrific," she smiled, her bowels turning to water, and followed the Eryien to the training pits. It was here that Raine met Luthvian, and instantly she knew that in a few years the young girl would be almost as intimidating as her father. Even now, she was fixing Raine with a menacing look as she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. It was clear Luthvian expected to win, even though she heard Lucivar mutter to his daughter about how she wasn't allowed to fly against such a raw newcomer.

Selecting a practice sword that was weighted properly for her, Raine slowly walked into the practice circle and took up what she assumed was a fighting stance.

Without warning, Luthvian attacked. And then, as Raine instinctively dodged the blow, something happened she could never have expected. Somehow, incredibly, she knew what to do. She had images of herself fighting, yet they were someone else's memories. She felt anxiety, and her vision distorted as she saw her opponent, who no longer seemed to be Luthvian, loom before her. No longer caring how she had gotten sword skills, all Raine knew was that her enemy must be defeated. With a vicious onslaught of offensive thrusts, her opponent was quickly at her feet. Raising her sword to deliver the killing blow, she was surprised when her wrist was caught over her head, preventing her from bringing the sword down. Snarling, she twisted, bringing her wrist down in a move that usually put people on their backs. However, her new opponent was too skilled for such a basic maneuver. He drew his sword, and in three quick strokes, she was the one on the ground. Struggling to pull herself up, Raine realized she was herself again.

"Well done," Lucivar stated as he sheathed his sword, "if I hadn't interfered, I believe Luthvian would be dead by now. Tell me, where did you learn moves like that?"

"I honestly don't know," Raine answered as she coughed up arena sand. Again, her eyes caught Daemon's in a stare, but this time she was the first to look away. What did he think of her now, he certainly had less reason to believe her and her history. She realized then how hopelessly futile it was that anyone would believe her. But it was the truth!

Lucivar seemed not to notice her internal struggle, for he was circling her and mutter so softly, Raine doubted she was meant to hear him.

"Fights hard, fast, furious," he was saying, continuing his spherical pacing, "Ideal fighting for an ambush, or even against armies. A stance that suggest going for the quick kill, because there'll be another enemy just as quickly. But I wonder. . ." he trailed of thoughtfully, "Daemonar! Get over here!"

A tall Eryien stalked over, his face covered in sweat from practice.

"What's up Prick?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Watch your language boyo," he growled, "you're not allowed to call me that. I want you to run through with Raine here, just to see how she does against a more experience fighter, her style reflects the absence of such opposition."

"A chick?" he asked incredulously, then saw Raine," Oh yes, I remember. Jaenelle's apprentice. Well this shouldn't take too long."

Back in the pits, Raine and Daemonar warily circled one another. Raine had lost her memories, but she still had the talent they had brought.

Lunging suddenly, she again went for the quick kill. Daemonar parried cleanly under her fast and furious attack at first, but after awhile his strokes became clumsier and less steady. Still, however, he remained in a defensive position, looking for the hole in the other's offense that would give him the victory. He found it, and within a few number of moves, Raine again found herself on the ground.

"Damn it!" she swore, picking herself up, and oddly enough, grinned.

"Well there you have it," Lucivar said, "You definitely need to work more on your defense. But you're good, there's no denying that. You'll train with the boyos, the one in Daemonar's group.

"Well, well," Daemonar grinned as Lucivar walked away, "You are full of surprises."

* * * * *

"You're late," Jaenelle said with an air of finality as Raine entered Witch's study later that day.

"I know, I know!" she said, exasperated, "I've been running late all day. See it all started when-"

"no excuses," Jaenelle interrupted, "Just results."

"Yes, my Lady," she mumbled sullenly.

"Now let's begin," Witch stated, "First, what do you already know?"

"Not much, actually. Just basic Craft and some hearth-Craft but nothing beyond that."

"That's all?"

"Well, there aren't exactly strong witches in Red Moon Houses, Lady," Raine replied, "And those that are are in no condition to teach."

"I see," Jaenelle apologized thoughtfully, "I often forget the . . .conditions of Terrielle. But another thing that surprises me is that you also don't express any talents of being a Black Widow or a Healer."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"No, no it's okay," Jaenelle sighed, "After all you're not Witch."

"No," Raine said sadly, "I guess not."

* * * * *

For the second day in a row, Raine crawled into her room, thinking only of sleep. Sword training had physically taken its toll on her and Craft had been mentally draining. But, in the core of her soul, Raine had to admit she was still tingling from the power Jaenelle had shown her, the power she herself might one day wield over others.

Allowing herself a little jolt of excitement, Raine opened the door to her room and saw two people waiting for her.

"This better not become a habit," she thought irritably as the two people rose to greet her.

"Sorry if we've bothered you," said a short pale girl with a Galacian accent, "We just wanted to formally introduce ourselves and since we're leaving tomorrow we wanted to make sure we did this."

"After all," said the tall man of Dea al Mon heritage, "Anyone that captivates the attentions of Surreal is quite the effort."

"Indeed," Raine laughed, "I'm Raine-No subtitles, no last names, just Raine."

"Or at least Lady Raine now, being Lady Jaenelle's apprentice," the silver-haired boyo smiled, "I'm Morton of the Dea al Mon."

"And I'm Chlandra of Glacia."

"A pleasure," Raine said as she shook hands with both of them, 'I've now met Luthvian and Daemonar, whose okay once he stops being arrogant."

"That's one thing we agree on," Chlandra laughed and even Morton smiled.

"Now I've met you two," Raine continued, "But I thought there was one more. . . "

"Meghana," Morton filled in for her, starting to look uncomfortable, "Well you see she's-"

"Right here," said a tall girl with red hair that strode into the room. Positioning herself in front of Raine, she said, "I am Meghana."

When she offered no territory, or last name, Raine supplied "I am-"

"Yes, yes, everyone knows who you are," she sniffed, then began circling her like Lucivar had done, except with more malicious intent.

"Well, other than the fact that you wear the Gray, I can't see what's so special about you."

Raine's temper flared and she opened her mouth preparing to give the girl exactly what she deserved when Meghana continued, "Be careful what you say, Lady Raine. I just overheard Jaenelle talking with Saetan on how disappointed she was about your previous education. It seems likely she will drop you. And if you offend me, I promise that when you are officially cast from the Hall, as future Queen, I will see that you are sent back to where you came from."

"As I recall," Raine spat through gritted teeth, "Your kingdom yielded to Janelle, and when I inherit her position, I'll see to it that you're the one on the street."

Meghana, far from being threatened, simply laughed.

"Obviously Jaenelle hasn't given you any lessons in Protocol. So allow me the honor to give you your first lesson," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt, "Queens don't yield to whores."

She left then with a swirl of her cloak, before Raine could react. Her rage swirled to the breaking point and she had to grip her hands together to prevent herself from chasing Meghana down and slapping the snob.

"She certainly thinks very highly of herself," was what she said out loud.

"Well, that's two things we agree on," Chlandra grinned sympathetically.