The day was barely starting. The sky was pale and overcast, the birds were chattering instead of singing morning praises, the leafy branches of trees were dripping dew onto the ground below them.
And four silent mounted white riders sat upon their silvery blue-eyed steeds, staring at the hoofprints before them with disbelieving eyes.
"Impossible," Veera finally broke the quiet, gripping the bell-covered hackamore of her mare until her knuckles were white, "it's impossible . . ."
"Companions can't . . . they can't . . ." Menith stumbled in his words and fell into silence. They continued to stare at the tracks.
There was nothing overly unusual about the hoofprints. Their size and spacing indicated a very fast flight for the horse that left them, and a shiny glimmer left on the flattened grass and dirt could have been a trick of the rising sun, as it only appeared when one looked at it sideways.
But the spot the Heralds were looking at was where the tracks stopped, not the tracks themselves.
Menith dismounted with a soft grunt, squatting beside the hoofprints with a concentrated frown on his face.
"They . . . they just . . . end," he said, running a finger along the last print. Indeed, the mile-long track ended in the middle of that valley. It did not veer into a different direction, did not change its spacing as if the horse had leapt in the middle of its wild run. They just stopped, with no sign of the horse in sight.
"Herald Tru," Menith looked up at Tru, who dragged his eyes from the trail to meet Menith's own.
"Yes?"
"You're a Mage, are you not? Was magic involved here?" Menith asked, getting up from his crouch and staring at Tru hard.
"I can check," Tru said, half-closing his eyes. A strange shifting went through the air, and the others stirred uncomfortably. Tru fully opened his eyes a moment later, his face now wrought with confusion.
"Well?" Veera voiced, looking at him expectantly.
"The ley-lines around the area are drained . . . it's as if . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.
"As if what?" Veera sounded impatient, and Coren mirrored her uneasiness with a slight toss of her head and silvery tail.
"I was going to say that it was as if a Gate had been constructed here . . . but it doesn't feel like any Gate I know of," Tru seemed to be struggling for words. The others remained silent, waiting for him to explain his findings. "In Karse, there are beings called Firecats. They have the ability to magically transfer their body from one point to another, without building and taking down a Gate. They call it Jumping . . ."
"You're saying a Firecat Jumped Amaro and Neoka out of here?" Menith crossed his arms doubtfully. Tru shook his head.
"No. Firecats leave a . . . a type of signature when they Jump. There was no Firecat here. I only bring it up because the disturbance of the ley-lines suggests that a Jump took place."
"But how can a Jump take place if there is no Firecat?" Veera asked. Tru shook his head.
"Unless Neoka has the most powerful Fetching Gift in the history of Velgarth, I'm going to say Amaro somehow . . . well, somehow Jumped his way to somewhere else."
Hyatee snorted and tossed his head. Menith looked at him, then back at the others.
"He says that would be impossible. Jumping is a magic belonging exclusively to Firecats."
"It is what the ley-lines suggest," Tru said with a shrug, "if anyone has a better explanation, I'd love to hear it."
The Heralds looked away, knowing full well that they had no counter explanation to offer. The Companions glanced at one another, trepidation swirling in their sapphire eyes.
***
Neo did not know when he fell asleep. His dozing was long and dreamless, and he woke only when his pillow began to stir.
Wait . . . pillows don't move . . .
Blinking, he straightened and rubbed bleary eyes. When he pulled his hands away from his face, he found himself staring at a rolling field, not a farmhouse or any other type of homestead in sight. His memory rushed back to him, making his night-chilled body heat with excitement.
He looked over his shoulder, and grinned foolishly at his "pillow." Amaro blinked back at him, azure eyes still holding exhaustion in their midst. From the uncomfortable looking position they were both in, they seemed to have dropped asleep where they stood, and toppled over onto each other in the night. Neo had somehow curled up against Amaro's stomach, which had kept his back warm, but he ignored the awkwardness of their arrangement in favor of something much more important.
"We're at the border!" he cried out, grin breaking into a full-blown smile, "Amaro, you did it!"
The Companion blinked once more, then glanced past him at the slightly shimmering air that separated Hardorn and Valdemar.
:I . . . did it?: he repeated. Neo nodded, reaching out a hand to pat Amaro's withers.
"Now all we have to do is get to the Throne City, rescue Vannasa, and destroy the Sickness Mage," he listed happily. Amaro fixed him with his blue gaze once more.
:None of those things are going to be as easy as you seem think they are,: he said gravely, then abruptly changed the subject, :I can't remember the run.:
"You . . . you can't remember what?" Neo asked, his smile fading in confusion.
:All I remember is you jumping on my back without so much as a by-your-leave, and then . . . the rest is completely clouded by terror.:
Neo looked away guiltily.
"Ah, well . . . I . . . I Projected that . . ." he admitted slowly.
:You . . . Projected fear into me so I would run?: the voice was filled with disbelief. Neo nodded, and immediately went onto the defensive.
"They . . . they were going to take us back to Haven, Amaro! I read it from them before I could even see them! And when I backed into Menith . . ." he trailed off, his voice suddenly filling with hurt. Menith had been prepared to "drag him back to Haven" with the help of the newly arrived Heralds. It hurt more thinking that Menith had only been pretending to help Neo all along than he really thought it should.
Get a grip! He shouted at himself silently, you've been betrayed before! It's not like you weren't expecting as much!
But Neo knew he hadn't expected Menith to betray his trust. He'd been in the Herald's mind for Haven's sake! If betrayal was a part of him, Neo would have seen it.
Paling, Neo realized what he had done.
I . . . I acted too quickly . . . They might have been sent to retrieve us, but there were other ways of dealing with that than running away . . .
Amaro had gotten to his hooves while Neo delved into his thoughts.
:Who is "they?": the Companion asked. Neo blinked and searched his memory for what he had said before becoming lost in thought.
"'They' are Heralds. They were sent to take us back to Haven," he said. Amaro shook himself, ridding his coat of the blades of grass that had stuck to it during their rest.
:And why did that panic you? You aren't averse to using your Gift, as you proved with me several times now. Why hesitate to fight now? Why is this time different from the time Menith tried to stop you?: he asked. Neo slid his ebony gaze towards the border, and the longing for his sister rekindled. Unexpectedly with it came a surge of elation. He'd gotten this far, hadn't he? It was only a matter of time before he had his sister back . . .
"Because Menith was prepared to help them, and each one of them had enough in Mind Gifts to subdue my own, I think. I didn't want to take any chances. Not with her life dependent on my decisions," they both looked at the border now, and Amaro knew immediately who Neo was talking about.
:Well . . . no use in keeping her waiting, is there?: he said with a sigh. Neo echoed the sigh, then nodded.
"Are you ready? Don't push yourself, all right? I wouldn't want you going lame on me."
Amaro tossed his head and his sapphire eyes filled with righteous indignation, :Companions don't go "lame!" Honestly, just where have you spent the last ten years of your life? One would think a Haven-babe like yourself would know better . . .:
Neo grinned, apologized with another pat, and mounted.
"Off to Hardorn then, Amaro. And you pick the pace."
***
"It will be the same as the last ones, Amaro," Neo pointed out angrily, glaring at the swiveling ears of the Companion, "so what's the point?"
:Is the well always half empty with you?: Amaro asked cheerfully, making Neo's glare narrow further. He chuckled in his mind and whickered aloud, :The point is that this village might not be like the others. And I, for one, would rather not be surprised.:
Neo sighed and raised his eyes to the pale cloud-strewn sky. The village they were speaking of loomed ahead of them, farming fields barren and houses untended. Even at the considerable distance between them, Neo could see that there was no living creature inhabiting the place.
But, as Amaro had pointed out, this village might not be like all the others. Deserted and barren of any type of life above a feral chicken or two.
Closing his eyes, Neo delved into the chaotic, enticing planes of the mind. He reached out for the mentality of humans, expecting and steeling himself against the blue-white presence of Amaro.
So far on their journey into Hardorn they had come across not a single human being. Neo, who's mind had been ever battered by the thoughts of others in Haven, found the stretching silence somewhat disconcerting.
He was about to pull back into the plane of reality, when a small, sharp spike of thought echoed from the village.
Good day for gardening, I think . . .
The "voice" was aged and wizened, giving it the wonderful feel and color of old parchment. Neo started in surprise, before centering his attention on the mind of the old man.
He wasn't surprised that he had overlooked it before. The aged tended to have very scattered thoughts, he had discovered, compared to the young. And scattered thoughts were much harder to pick up on than the shouts of youth were.
"I've found one," he murmured aloud, still concentrating on finding out as much about the elder as he could. Amaro did not respond, most likely because the Companion did not want to break Neo's concentration, for which the Blue was grateful.
Damn old bones . . . gona have to get Apple awake to help with the weeds . . .
Neo examined the line of thought voraciously. With each word there was a feeling and image, swirling up from the depths of the man's consciousness, gleaming in the feelings he had had at the time, as if dipped meticulously into the affection the old man had for the people Neo was seeing. From these spirals of imagery, Neo found out that "Apple" was the old man's granddaughter, a sprightly, carefree little child whose cheeks and hair were as red as the fruit she was named after.
However, along with that warm image, a reflection of Apple's mother rose to dominate the others. The woman reminded Neo strongly of the female Guards in Haven; her bright red hair tied back in a braid, her chestnut eyes and full pink lips worn by struggle but brightened by life, and the unmistakable look of one who was prepared to die for her loved ones.
As she had done, Neo learned from the thread of thought that followed his explorations. She and Apple's father and brothers, and the rest of the village, and perhaps most of Hardorn.
Shame . . . a damn shame . . . came the unhappy thought. Neo felt the pain the old man was going through by thinking of the past, and drew the man's mind back to gardening. Settling it there, Neo withdrew back into his own head.
"It's an old man, and his granddaughter," he reported to Amaro.
:Did you find out what happened here?: Amaro asked. Neo shook his head.
"Only that it was something terrible," he said softly. Amaro did not pursue the question any farther, and hurried his pace a bit more down the dusty trail.
The speed wasn't anywhere near as fast as they had been going last night, but they flew across the countryside anyway. Neo, now tuned into the old man's mind, knew immediately when their presence had been discovered.
Rider comin' . . . the gruff voice echoed, guess the old Gift isn't what it used to be . . .
"He's Gifted," Neo informed Amaro in surprise.
:I should be able to sense him then,: Amaro replied, :do you know what type of Gift it is?:
"Something that should warn you when someone approaches before you can see them," Neo provided.
:That narrows down the search to Mind and Earth based Gifts, mostly,: Amaro murmured. Neo remained silent. The old man didn't have the prominent taste of someone with the kind of Gift he had, but Neo didn't think he knew more about that than Amaro did. He left the Companion to his musings.
Ahead of them, a small figure emerged from one of the dwellings. Neo recognized it immediately as the old man.
He was crouched over a walking stick, staring fiercely at them with fading eyesight as they neared, his silver beard and hair long and unkempt. After a couple of seconds, a child ran out of the house after him, flowers braided into her hair and cheeks rosy with the invigoration of childhood. Neo caught and marked her "taste" as well, listening briefly to her thoughts before tuning them out when excitement made them garbled and little better than pure, wordless emotion.
"Greetings," Neo hailed in Hardornian when they were in speaking distance. Amaro closed the rest of the expanse quickly, pulling up with a flurry of hooves and silky mane and tail. Apple squealed in delight, and the old man's face lost a little of its guard.
"Greetings," the old man said with a slight nod. Neo dismounted and gave them both his most charming smile.
It won over Apple immediately, but the old man did not budge an inch in his indecision of how welcome these strangers were.
Amaro shook his mane and seemed to brighten his silver coat exponentially. Apple very nearly lost her mind at that, running up with another squeal to stroke and exclaim over Amaro, who enjoyed it much more than Neo thought he would admit aloud.
Turning his deliberately genial gaze back to the old man, his smile widened.
First impressions are lasting ones, so find out who and what he likes and be those things, he told himself forcefully, then allowed a slight grin to touch his face, well, all those days in Court have finally proven to be useful!
"We've been on this road for near two days, and you're the first people we've come across," he said, keeping his voice idle and warm. The old man said nothing, his eyes roaming Neo and Amaro in wariness, and a part of Neo not trained thoroughly by Court became unnerved by the lack of response his friendly advances were having. However, he had cracked tougher nuts than the old man in front of him, and he kept the absent-looking smile on his face.
"Not a trace of anyone else, and we've looked pretty hard," he sent a glance over his shoulder at Amaro, who was watching Apple weave through his legs happily. Carefully, in case his advancements would be detected by the old man's Gift, he caught hold and listened to his mind.
. . . knew a Herald would come someday . . . looks a bit young to do anything against Lord Morbus though . . . however, can't say that I mind, if this means the Lord will get a taste of what he's been giving out . . .
Neo blinked, then looked down at himself, forgetting he had borrowed the unique uniform of the Heralds.
A rush of guilt filled him. The old man was expecting him to help out with whoever this "Lord Morbus" was, and Neo couldn't lend his aid so freely. He wasn't like the Heralds. He had things to do! And he certainly wasn't going to tangle himself up with Lord Morbus if he could avoid it. The name had an oddly sinister feel to it, and he really didn't care to find out what kind of power, in Court and out of it, this Lord held.
But the old man's face suddenly turned from guarded and suspicious, to open and amiable, and Neo felt his resolve to not help dissolving away. These were simple folk, and whatever Lord Morbus was doing to them, they certainly didn't deserve it. Perhaps on his way back with Vannasa, he would have a few words with the Lord . . .
"Didn't I tell you, Apple?" the old man said suddenly, beaming at his granddaughter, "Didn't I say a Herald wasn't going to sit still in Valdemar while all this happened?"
"You did Granda!" Apple said spiritedly, throwing her arms around one of Amaro's legs and hugging it tightly with a bubbly giggle, "I told you your Gift was just fine!"
The old man must have caught the curious glance Neo gave him, for he chuckled and explained.
"Foresight, I think you call it," he said, tapping his skull with a gnarled finger, "didn't see you comin' down the road, but what with everythin' else happening, can't really blame the old thing, can ya?"
He chuckled again and took the finger he had been tapping his head with to point at a run-down stall beside their house.
"Apple's too small to treat your horse right, and I'm afraid I'm too old to do much better by it," his smile turned apologetic, "but while you get him settled in, we'll have your meal cookin', and a warm bath waitin' for ya."
Neo's smile turned genuine. A bath and food sounded wonderful at the moment, and he wasn't a bit irritated about being left to take care of Amaro by himself if both those things were warm.
"Thank you," he said gratefully, turning towards the stall. Amaro followed, eager to get a meal not made entirely of grass.
"See how well trained he is, Apple?" Neo heard the old man say, "You don't see stallions like that everyday . . ."
The stall was in a sad state. Cobwebs and bug-ridden wood and straw would not make it a comfortable night for Amaro. Neo cleaned a stall out as best he could while Amaro stood and watched nearby.
:Try to get the story of what happened here out of the old man,: Amaro said, nipping at an itch on his leg, :the Heralds will need to know when we return.:
Neo sighed and nodded, exiting the stall with a final sweep of an old broom he had scavenged.
"And what about this Lord Morbus? The old man was thinking about him a while back. Doesn't sound like a pleasant fellow. What should we do about him?" he asked while Amaro sidled past him into the stall. He clasped his hands over the end of the broom and leaned his chin against them, frowning slightly. Amaro made himself comfortable, then buried his nose in the water trough, which Neo had had to unclog and refill.
:I'm surprised you're interested at all in him,: Amaro stated finally, :as long as it has nothing to do with you and retrieving Vannasa, why should it matter?:
Neo frowned.
"Because Apple and the old man have suffered by his hand," he said incredulously, "we should at least stop by on our way back and see if we can't put an end to whatever he's doing."
Amaro glanced at him, then turned to his bucket of grains.
:If Lord Morbus really is mistreating his people, it's of no business to us. Especially no business of yours.:
"What?" Neo blinked. Was Amaro actually saying he wouldn't help these people? And what exactly did he mean: "especially no business of yours"?
:This is not Valdemar. Heralds have no power here, and you aren't even a Herald. Lord Morbus is Hardorn's problem. Only when it threatens Valdemar may we – the Heralds and Companions, I mean – interfere.:
Neo found himself gaping at the sapphire eyes that suddenly seemed much colder than the gem they resembled.
"I can't believe you're refusing to help these people! I always thought Heralds stuck their noses in wherever they could possibly fit! Doesn't that hold true with their mounts?" his gape turned into a glare, and Amaro stopped his eating to stare back at him.
:I agreed to help you because you needed my legs, young Blue,: he said, :do not think to tell me what a Herald and Companion must do. You are not either, and have no say in the matter.:
Neo threw down the broom angrily, startling Amaro.
"If you refuse to aid those that need you, how can you claim to be any better than I?! Just because you were born to help people, doesn't mean only you have the right to! And even if that were the case, how dare you demand to choose who you help! You're nothing better than a common stallion if you believe all that you're saying! Run back to Haven then, horse, for I do not need nor want your legs anymore!" he stormed out of the stalls, his fists clenched and his strides powerful, not looking back.
Amaro stared after him, eyes gone sad and introspective after a stunned moment of pure shock.
Perhaps the Blue was right . . . borders were no reason to restrict one's power. Evil didn't see it as a restraint, so why should good?
He had no counter argument for that, and felt an immense amount of shame well up inside him. Neoka was right. He was little better than a horse if he refused to help any he did not see fit.
He tried to touch Neoka's mind to tell him this, but the Blue's Shields repelled him immediately. Almost violently. He would not be able to talk with Neoka tonight. He would have to save his apologies for the morning . . .
***
Neo clutched the stolen uniform and pulled at it almost manically, his eyes brightened by tears he refused to let fall and his breath ragged with sobs he refused to release.
I never liked Heralds and Companions, he shouted to himself, never . . . but they're supposed to be righteous . . . honorable . . . god-like damn it! They aren't supposed to be so . . . so selfish!
A small voice in his head said that maybe he was being too harsh on Amaro. The Companion was, perhaps, unnerved by being away from his homeland, and didn't want to prolong his stay by pitting himself against a local Lord. Or simply didn't think it wise to delve into foreign affairs without the consent of King Aboras.
The hands that were tugging frenziedly against the loathed uniform suddenly grew weak and dropped to his sides.
"Vannasa," he whispered harshly to the silent afternoon sky, wishing strongly that his sister was beside him, her simple joy of living permeating the air and easing his distress, "gods, I . . . I wish I hadn't changed so much . . . it would be so much easier to act like this was Court . . . that nothing here really mattered . . ."
Twice now he had been hurt. Once by Menith, who's betrayal Neo was still questioning, and now by Amaro. Neo had thought that the Companion would always be with him in Hardorn. That he wouldn't have to do everything on his own.
But I've ruined that, haven't I? he asked himself, his tone almost monotonous in his misery, I've gone and driven the only thing left that could have helped me straight back to Haven . . . you're an idiot, Neo! You're no better than your father!
He let out a soft hiss at that. The accusation tore at his heart viciously and he longed to return to the stalls and apologize for the things he had said.
Halfway through his turn, he was stopped by a small body blocking his way.
"Food's ready, Herald!" Apple cried out enthusiastically. She grabbed his hand before he could respond and dragged him towards the house. Her bouncy little steps and nonsense chattering drew his thoughts away from Amaro and his father, and he focused instead on the food the old man and Apple had prepared.
It was a far cry from the feasts of the Collegium, but the homey atmosphere and lively company more than made up for it. Neo was hounded by both Apple and the old man for news of Valdemar, and he entertained them with the recent tales of adventure that were being swapped in Court. When he had finally run dry of topics concerning Valdemar, he gave the old man a direct look that easily conveyed the message of "we need to get down to business."
The old man nodded slightly, and sent Apple to bed. The child moaned and complained heartily, but trudged to her hay-filled loft without the kind of fuss Neo would have expected to be raised from most Noble children he knew.
When Apple had finally fallen into dreams of flower fields and the lovely silver stallion outside, Neo and the old man were sitting together in spindly old rocking chairs beside the fire, watching the sun slowly descend below the horizon, illuminating the sky with soft ginger warmth and the brightest of stars began to awaken and wink down at them.
"Suppose you want the story then, eh?" the old man finally asked, staring deeply into the flickering flames. Neo said nothing, despite Amaro's advice. It was clearly a painful topic for the old man, and though his curiosity was picking at him, Neo didn't want to be the cause of pain for the elder.
The old man took a breath before continuing, "I take it you don't know who Lord Morbus is, then?"
Neo shook his head.
"Crown Prince he was, when I was a lad," he muttered softly, "never a better man for the throne. Loved his kingdom. More than some thought natural, but none complained. Loving the kingdom is the job of the king. S'what Hardornian Royalty's supposed to do."
He fell silent for a moment, and Neo sat as still as he could. He could tell the tale he was about to hear would explain a lot, and didn't want to interrupt.
"Anyway, the day for the crowning came 'round," the old man continued, "I take it you know how Hardornian Royalty is crowned?"
Neo nodded, "they're tied to the earth of Hardorn," he said softly, repeating the phrase his teacher had used. The old man nodded.
"Tied and bound," he said, "can't go wrong by it if you're attached like that, was the thinking," he shook his head, and Neo felt a foreboding feeling well up inside him, "the ceremony for the Prince went fine. The Priest who did it said he hadn't seen a more successful union. They gave the Prince time to adjust, 'cause it's hard on you the first days, I hear."
Again he shook his head.
"And that's where I think somethin' went wrong. Servants in the castle said the Prince was acting funny. Said he hardly ever came out of his trance with the land. Wasn't too healthy to be so infatuated, I think, but folk at the time didn't see nothing wrong with it. Said the Prince was just figuring out how to use his new legs. It was only when things started happenin' to people that folk started getting worried."
"What kind of things?" Neo asked, despite his desire to not interrupt.
"Strange things," the old man actually shuddered, despite the near stuffy warmth of the room, "crops just up and died. Animals started acting odd. Wouldn't do what they've always done. Sheep and cattle went wild. Dogs and cats followed soon after. Whole villages starved before someone blamed the Prince aloud. Said the land was sick, and it was the king's job to find out what and fix it. The Prince, though . . . he said t'wasn't the land which was sick, but the people."
Again a pause, and Neo narrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"But what was really happening? Why were the animals and crops acting strangely?" he asked. The old man sighed and leaned forward, hands clasping his cane and eyes troubled.
"Well, I'll tell you as much as I know," he said. "See, when the Prince blamed the folk for everything happening, everyone knew something was wrong. Some said the Prince had gone crazy when he bonded with the land. Said he became more rock, tree, and dirt than man. And I admit, it looked like that for a while. Prince stopped talking to people, started taking long walks out of the castle. Didn't return till a good fortnight later. But no matter who talked to him, he just said the same things, over and over again. 'T'wasn't the land, t'was the people.' Kept blaming farming folk and the like, saying everything was going wrong 'cause of them."
Another shake of his disheveled head.
"Now, I know there are a few farmers out there that don't treat the land as it should be treated, and maybe the Prince was talking about those people. Maybe there was some truth in his words. But there are as many good, honest folk as there are bad ones, and they didn't deserve what happened anymore than the next man."
Neo's breath caught in his throat, "what . . . what happened?"
"Sick. Near everyone got sick," the old man whispered, throwing cautious looks around the room as if the Prince were there with them, "not a normal sickness neither. Terrible stuff. Just up and grabs you. No warning. You might be out gardening, and the next thing you know, bam," he brought his cane down on the floor hard, making Neo jump in his seat, "you're flat on your back, and you never get back up."
Neo felt himself pale, and quickly clutched the arms of his chair to keep his trembling hands from showing.
The . . . Sickness . . . it's nearly wiped Hardorn clean of people . . . and the Mage is starting to go after Valdemar!
Authors note: ah yes. And the plot thickens just a bit! This is no longer a watery soup fic! Whee! Anyway, I've a bit of self-promoting to do *stares at suddenly empty seats* ah, well, you know that fic idea way, way, way back when, called Stealing Hearts? I had to remove it from ff.net 'cause the people there asked me to, but I switched it to an RPG, because you guys had some awesome character designs, and I wanted them to be put to better use. The site's dismal, but the RPG's are incredibly fun. Anyone can join, just go here:
And that's the end of that little thingy. Now on to the review responses no one reads ^_^
Lady Silver Dragon – we've an extra order of "Amaro's a git, Neo's got some issues, and Firefox is evil, which is the only reason they aren't together, damn it!" flags coming in, so don't worry about breaking more. But between you, me, and whoever else reads this, those flags are only going to be good until the next chapter comes out ^.^ fun Choosing time for Amaro in chapter 10, whee! Oh, and thank you very much ^_^
Youa – thank you! The story is going a bit slow, isn't it? *kicks chapters* the end is right around the corner, though, so no worries!
Angel of Death – thanks! We've plenty of "Neo and Amaro forever!" flags if you're into that pairing, though there are some other mixes out there. *ogles other mixes* Amaro and Vannasa, Amaro and some mysterious stranger we've yet to meet, and there's even an Amaro and Menith flag *raises eyebrow at pairing* you choose ^_^
Faeborn2930 - *offers foot massage* you've been doing the update dance for a while, huh? Sorry for the wait, but thanks for the kind review! I think there are too many Herald-trainee stories out there, and I couldn't really offer anything to the bunch. But Blues and the rest of the people in ML's world seem a bit neglected to me. Only right that one should have a story to himself ^^
Dream Keeper – lovely story you have! *envious* but what really happened in the run will soon be revealed, never fear! And thanks!
Emerald Flame - *smiles* you're, I think, the only one to say chapter 8 is the best of the bunch, and I surely appreciate it. The Heralds sent after Neo and Menith didn't have time to think up a trap, if that's what you're guessing, but as for the Mage . . . *grin* well, who knows what he's up to. Hope you don't mind me responding to the reviews again. Old habit.
Silver Dragonfly – yes, I think it would be very frustrating as well. Good thing Neo doesn't have to deal with that while in Hardorn, though he may very well wish to swap what he comes across in Hardorn for Jhaspar and all his unreasonableness later. *grins* can't say that I know the Blue's thoughts on the matter ^^
Herald Mistylenna – not fond of the cliffs, are ya? Well, the next chapter has one fit for the roadrunner cartoons, and its where my top secret twist comes in to play *happy wiggle* and thank you!
ElvenRanger – right on the button! You're good at this plot-guessing aren't you? ^_^
Evandi and Hyreli – yay! I advertised! *points to authors note* now lets see if anyone bites. I know I promised that the very end of the chapter would reveal Amaro's Chosen, but it would have taken another nine pages, and I've trouble enough downloading three pages with this site *angry glare at ff.net*. Anyway, can I possibly, maybe, perhaps, by chance, see just an itty bitty, teensy weensy, small, little Lavan and Kalira? *biggest puppy dog eyes a fox can manage* I know you're having problems with the plot, but even a pointless little whim-teaser would be okay! *tries not to get excited*
Aristel – oh that makes two of us! No good at waiting, this fox, not at all. I hope you like this chapter as much as the rest of the story ^^
Cat – simple, yet to the point ^_^. Hope you didn't wait too long!
Ola – ah, my shaych Companion. I hoped someone would like that. And Jhaspar's being a bit of a git, I know *this him over the head* there's a reason for it, of course, but I'm carrying that on to the sequel *dizzy eyes* too many stories!
Psycho tabby cat – if you keep saying those things, I'll write as much as you want me to! ^_^ flattery is a weakness of mine. Criticism is better for my writing, I admit, but flattery makes me want to write. We've a whole corner and flag dedicated to yelling at Amaro for not Choosing Neo right away *ushers psychotic kitty in* and you've only tell the next chapter to find out if I listen at all to the angry screams of reviewers and make the two of them get together ^^
Etcetera-cat - *grins* yeah, Amaro does need the class. Your and Teva's feelings on the King's Own are not misplaced, but I wont let a single thing else slip out about him ^^ he's not very popular, I think *looks at other reviewers* not very popular at all . . .