***Tortallan Fire***

Disclaimer: The Tortall Concepts belong to Tamora Pierce, and are being used by my lowly self to have a little fun with. All characters (except the ones from the books that you recognise, including the dog Jump and sparrows) in this story are figments of my own twisted imagination. The lyrics are from various different burst of lyrical spontaneity written by me.

Summary: Tiasandra is a waif of a child, abused and used by all, including her parents, then left for starvation. On the brink of madness, she finds Keladry of Mindelan, a light in her gloomy darkness. But will Tiasandra ah Mandran have the courage to tread the path pre-scribed for her, or will she fail? 

AUTHORS NOTES: Another story that has sprung up from the depths of my twisted mind. Please tell me what you think so far; is it worth continuing? This is a work in progress, so it might take me a while to get some parts out, so please be patient and continue reading, I'd love your input.

Comments are loved, critique slavered over, questions adored and notes ardently, hopefully, passionately seeked! Please send comments, whether good or bad!

Hugs and Honey go out to Twilight Flame and AB-scribere who commented on the last part. Thank you greatly! Everyone else, ple-he-hease comment!!! Whether good or bad, I love both!!

Part three: The Finding

The shapeless forms stood watching; as the lightning-and-sunlight woven form stepped down of the shard of lightning he'd rode in on.

One of Them stepped forward. "Explain." It was not a work uttered in the usual sense. It was breathed, yet led a shiver down his spine. Briefly he cursed himself for getting These involved. But need had called, and need must be answered.

With a tremor in his voice, he began the tale.

~*~

Kel stared at the small form in her arms, briefly stunned beyond belief. Then she put the little girl down on her makeshift bed. "I cannot believe this," she mumbled as she pulled a blanket over the girl. "Why is this happening to me? Great Mithros," she wearily rubbed a hand across her forehead, "this is too strange."

Strange? a voice asked in her head. What do you know of strange, in a world with mages and immortals, and demi-gods as your friends?

Shut up, Kel thought irritably to the voice, her Yamani-control slipping. Jump slunk up, quiet from where he'd sat, watching the spectacle. She absently stroked his fur, muttering "you had the right idea, friend. I should hide too."

For, oh, despite the little girl's apparent innocence, there was something not very innocent at all about her.

Are you sure the night is not getting to you, Kel thought, trying to think of a rational reason. But as she looked over to the sleeping form on her bed, she couldn't help but shudder. What in the Mithran Light had possessed the child to scream such a way, while still asleep?

A strong puff of wind blew her hair about, and Kel shivered, drawing her spare blanket nearer to her. Momentarily she was puzzled at the change in the weather. It had been balmy as could be just a short while ago. And now, the winds had started tossing, just as bad as the little girl tossed.

Kel crept closer to the child on her bed, reaching out to touch her, then hesitating. Something…a force just past her understanding was telling her not to. For a moment she froze in a muddle of fear, shock and anticipation. It suddenly hit her that she was in the middle of nowhere, at least a day's ride from any help, and had a mysterious child—who seemed to know her—nearby. Kel wondered if she'd die tonight.

Oh Mithros, she thought, her eyes fixed unwittingly on the small, sleeping form. What is this madness?

Keladry of Mindelan, Lady Knight, was frozen with fear.

Suddenly a sharp pain in her arm stopped her, shocked her out of her stupor. Yelping, she swung her head round—to find Peachblossom feet away from her, his teeth inches away from her arm.

He'd bitten her. And thank goodness he had. Shakily she patted his head.
"Thank you," she told him.

But yet, she could not resist looking at the little girl on he bed.
Who *are* you, she thought. Kel paused, then changed the question.

*What* are you?

~*~

In another time, a girl stood out of the crowds. Or rather, her mannerism and spirit did. If there was one thing that Kendrina of Naxen was not, it was a conformist.

What she was, was a girl graced with a shock of brown hair that ran down her back like the sea, in an equal number of waves. With her brown eyes, and her expensive latest-fashion clothing, she looked every inch the noble.

But if you looked a little closer, you'd see the latest-fashion clothing was not on very straight, and her hair done in the simplest of ways. Watch her carefully and you'd see the intelligence snapping in her eyes, a rarity in nobles. Observe her for a while, and you'd notice the determination in her movement and in the tilt of her chin, a determination that belied her twelve years of age. And if you were to look even closer, you'd see the fine bruises across her arms, hidden by the flimsy shawl she wore.

Kendrina of Naxen was a noble…with a difference.

Gods, she thought lifting her goblet to her lips to taste the apple-punch, this is torture. Another evening, and it was just another dinner with the nobles of the Court. And Kendrina was surrounded by the airheads of the Realm. She could not stand it. Each day, each evening, it was the same tale. Which woman could wear the least clothing and pass it of as clothing. Which couple could make a dance seem so much *more*. Kendrina—better known as Kendry—was sick of it all.

And she could not escape. As daughter of the training-master of the would-be Knights, she was stuck here indefinitely.

"Gods, try to stay awake," Marcus of Dunlath muttered as he came to stand by her. He gave her a mischievous smile, winking at her. She shot him a disgusted look, then turned away.

Marcus looked at her, noticing the way her brows drew together. She was upset. The way she was every night she had to come dine the main dining room. Of course, he knew the cause. Everyone did.

Kendrina of Naxen was a noble…with a difference.

"Look at them," Kendry growled.

"Here we go," Marcus muttered. He'd heard this before a million times.

"Wasting their time, and their money," Kendry raved on, oblivious to her friend. "It disgusts me!"

"I know it does, Kendry," Marcus said patiently. He'd found out from experience that it was best to agree with her. Whatever she wanted to say.

"What is so interesting that they are discussing?" she continued, anger peaking in her eyes. "Of course, should I be even asking that?"

"No, Kendry. Its gossip," he muttered, checking his uniform. Thank the Gods it was clean. Last time he'd managed to spill some soup on himself.

"I bet that if an attack broke out on the castle right now, most of these half-wits would be crying under the tables, useless to defend to the Realm or even themselves!"

"You're absolutely right." His servant had not been happy with the stain. It had taken him a long time to get it out.

"Yes I am!" Kendry said heatedly, her chest heaving. "I am," she said quieter, "and I can't do a damn thing about it." She sighed mournfully, always aware of the pain of it. Casting a glance sideways, she observed Marcus. Mithros, she thought, he has no idea. He has no idea how lucky he is.

Kendry had known him for two years now, ever since the day she'd bumped into him outside of the Lesser Library. He'd been coming out grumbling about her father.

"I can't believe he's set us so much work!" his voice had been younger then, more boyish. Kendry had been walking towards her father's study, but she'd stopped and hid, intrigued by the voice that had the sound of rushing water. A body soon followed the voice, and she'd been surprised to learn it was only one of the new pages, only her own age. Somehow she'd expected someone older. And he was talking to himself.

"What a boar-brained being," the boy had muttered, trudging up the corridor towards her. Kendry started to laugh, realizing he was talking about her father, and hastily clamped a hand over her mouth lest he hear her. Instead, she stepped out of her niche as she drew closer to her, and said, " Hello."

Marcus jumped, startled and yelped.
It was then that Kendry found out that Marcus of Dunlath had a most unusual Gift.

The sound of his yell crashed into her ears, followed by a jagged, tearing pain. Clutching at her ears, she fell against the wall, trying to steady herself. It echoed, it hurt, damn it *hurt*!

"Oh, are you okay?" the sound was gentle, the equivalent of a hand smothering the pain. And suddenly Kel could think again, and she realized the boy's face was near hers, and his lips were moving, the most wondrous sounds coming out of them.

"Um, hello?" he asked, puzzlement lighting on his face. Kel shook herself, coming out of her reverie. Angrily. "What the *hell* was that?" she exclaimed.

The boy blushed, looking away. "My voice," he answered.

"You dont say! I thought it was a pickaxe," she retorted, angrily getting up, ashamed that she'd fallen down by the sound of a voice! "What do you mean 'your voice'," she demanded.

"Its my Gift. I can influence people with my voice," he muttered. "Of course, sometimes it's tied to my emotions. You shocked me."

"Well, I suppose I did," Kendry admitted, calming down. She could see how silly she'd been. Besides, she was upsetting the boy (Odd how she seemed to be upsetting a lot of people. The nobles had the same problem). "Do you have a name?" she asked.

"Sorry," the boy said, standing up. "I'm Marcus of Dunlath."

"Kendrina of Naxen, Kendry to friends," she answered, appraising him. "It's a pain to meet you."

He stared at her, no doubt shocked at her mouth. Well, Kendry thought grimly, she might as well make herself known to the new boys. She braced herself to see his eyes turn away, like every noble's did. But Marcus the noble took her completely by surprise by smiling, and then laughing loudly. "You're funny!" he told her, the mirth in her voice causing her to laugh. "So many people tell me," she commented dryly, dropping into step with him.

It was an unlikely friendship that had lasted two years so far, and had steadily included nearly all of Marcus's year mates. They were her closest friends at the Court, and yet Kendrina envied them the most. Doomed to be a girl and a noble, she couldn't have the one thing she wanted the most. At least not really.

Oh yes, Kendrina of Naxen was a noble with a definite difference.

~*~

She awoke slowly, to a strange awareness from a strange dream. Opening her eyes the first thing she glimpsed was *her*. She'd found her. Finally.

With that thought firmly in her, she sat up, disturbing the many sparrows around her. Startled, she let out a little cry.

Kel whirled back, surprised that the little girl was already up. It was barely the crack of dawn. Still, with the night that girl had, had.

She walked back towards the shape sitting on the floor, then knelt next to the little girl, who was watching her with those same haunted eyes. Kel had to swallow a few times before she could start. "How are you?" she asked as gently as she could.

The little girl looked down, a scared expression fleetingly in her eyes. "I wont hurt you," Kel told her, still gently. "I'm Kel, remember?"

The little girl looked up then, her eyes losing the expression and becoming knowing. She nodded.

"So would you like some breakfast?" Kel asked her, slightly unnerved by the girl's silence. The little child only nodded.

As they ate, Kel studied the girl. She was small, so tiny she couldn't have been more than seven or eight. And seriously underfed. Kel clenched her fists at whoever treated her in such a fashion. The worse things were the bruises she could see along the exposed skin on her arms. She had no doubt those bruises continued even under the scrap of clothing, which were little more than rags.

Although Kel knew many children got treated as such all over the Realm she couldn't help the anger that rose up in her. Curse your assailers, she thought fiercely, wishing she could get her hands on them.

There was something frightened about the girl, about the quick movement she made, almost as if she was scared that she was going to be struck at any moment. She had long hair that touched her shoulders, curiously clean and lovely looking. In fact, Kel saw in the budding daylight, the girl looked almost Yamani.

She could be mixed, Kel thought, still observing her. Had that skin been a few shades lighter than her pecan brown, the little girl could have passed for Yamani. But yet, those eyes…

When Kel chewed her last mouthful of breakfast, she thought, enough is enough. Its time for some answers.

"What's you name?" Kel started, positive that she'd get no more answer than a look. But the little girl surprised her by saying "Tiasandra ah Mandran," her voice just like yesterday, like falling raindrops. And so soft, almost as if she was scared to be caught talking and get punished for it. "If it pleases your lady ship," she added. Ah, so someone's taught you manners, Kel thought. But I wouldn't be surprised if a noble beat it into you. She knew nobles were the first to administer beatings. And parents followed a close second.

"Tia—can I call you Tia?" Kel asked, watching the way Tiasandra folded herself against a tree, almost hiding. Kel's heart ached at the sight, and she unclenched her fists. Now was not the time.

Tiasandra nodded. Kel sighed. She saw she was not getting too far with this. So maybe you should just get to the point, a voice said in her mind. Maybe I should, Kel answered grimly.

"Tia," she said, bracing herself for—something. "How do you know me?"

The child that had seemingly fallen out of the air gave her the most bizarre answer.
Tia looked straight at Kel and said, "The sky told me where you where."

~(…as always, help must be given where it needs. But sometimes help comes with the highest price…)~