A/N: OMG! I luv my reviewers! They are so awesome! From now on it's "Veralidaine," thanx so much Flaming Knight! Anyway, here's my chappie, just like I promised. : ) DISCLAIMER: I do not own most of these characters! I know, I'm PITIFUL!!! Yup, they belong to the ingenious Tamora Pierce. (She's so lucky.) Just so you know, when I say 'Healers' I mean the healers of that status-kinda like journeymen. When I say 'healers' I mean people who heal. : )

~*A Trainee's Tale of Woe*~

The man sat up suddenly in bed, his face a peculiar shade of green, and retched right onto the freshly changed sheets. Alanna blanched, stumbled forward automatically, and, using her violet-hued Gift, began eliminating the vomit from the linens. Magic made the job a whole lot easier, she had to admit. But, then again, sometimes the magic didn't quite work out the way you expected it to. There was one trainee who accidentally sent the entire sick bay up in flames just by putting a little too much force into setting a broken collarbone. Alanna managed, however, to complete the cleaning process without causing physical pain to anyone. She wiped her forehead with a sweaty palm, and looked out the window where the sun was approaching its zenith. Almost time for lunch, she thought, Mithros be praised. The girl hefted a basin, lugged it over to an endlessly streaming jet of water by the door, and filled it halfway. "Bloody sick people," she muttered under her breath, and deposited the ewer on the nightstand of one woman whose leg had been shattered in a wagon accident. The midday bell rang out over the city, Alanna silently thanked the Mother Goddess, and she slipped out into the courtyard after informing Healer Tianna of where she would be. Although the Healer's Guild served its apprentices luncheon, the food was, according to a certain red-haired girl who wishes to remain nameless, quite horrible indeed. So Alanna periodically ate at the clamoring in she had first stayed at upon her arrival in Corus-The Dancing Dove.

Alanna accepted the tureen of beef stew obligingly, and immediately set upon demolishing it. The food there was rich and satisfying, and their lemonade was almost the best she had ever tasted. She sopped up the last bit of juice with a warm farl of nutbread, drained her goblet of cold, piquant lemonade, and started on her slice of elderberry tart.
Suddenly a man wearing a rather ugly suit of armor clanged into the room, and the people fell silent. He strode about importantly, and knocked over several stools in the process. "King Roald has sent me with this most crucial message to the citizens of Corus." The man brandished a scroll, unrolled it, and began to read. "The Royal Family has received a letter from the nation of Scanra declaring war on Tortall."
Alanna frowned, and looked up from her plate. "In the light of this matter, we have decided to deploy a force of knights, foot soldiers and cavalry to the border we share with Scanra. A select few pages will accompany this army, to study the strategy of war and improve upon their arms skills. Signed, King Roald the Peacemaker." The armored man rolled up the parchment and stalked out of the inn. His departure marked a flurry of activity in the room, as men and woman discussed this change of events in earnest. Alanna quietly paid for her meal, and headed back to the Royal Infirmary. She had a feeling that she would be needed.
*** For the next few days nothing of an unusual sort happened for the handful of trainees. There were a few broken bones, a man with a back all chopped up from falling under his plow, but nothing outlandishly serious (A/N: I know, I know, falling under a plow is serious, but just go along with me here.). Then an order came from the queen asking the Senior Mages to send along a company of Healers and apprentices to the border zone so that the wounded might get better treatment. So precisely one week after Scanra declared war, Alanna found herself riding Aquila north, along with nine other trainees and ten disgruntled Healers. This suited many of the novices well, however. Alanna was extremely excited about the prospect of seeing actual battle, and was nigh on delirious before Tianna told her to shut up and keep riding. It was several days before they reached the Scanran border, but when they finally arrived, they knew they were at the right place.
Slowing Aquila to a walk, Alanna dismounted swiftly and followed the Healers' lead to a makeshift stable amidst a copse of lindens. After filling the troughs with a mixture of oats and wheat bran, they trooped over to a clump of empty tents that one off-duty knight told them that sick- bay was in. "Wow," Alanna breathed softly, "this place stinks like a pigsty!" And indeed, the stench of rotting flesh and stale dressings was almost unbearable. Each of the healers dumped their belongings in a grungy corner and began scouting out the worst injured men. It was a gruesome scene; nearly all the warriors lying there were both infected and raving, or right on the brink of death already. Alanna chose a younger man with a badly slashed abdomen, and began pouring her energy into the wound, concentrating painfully hard. To her surprise, the nasty gash slowly began to seal up, and finally disappeared completely. She blinked. That's pretty handy, she thought, and began cleansing the pink new skin.
***
After hours of dumping her energy into someone else's body, however, Alanna grew quite tired. So all of the trainees were happy when they were told to take a short respite. Most of them chose to nap, although one slightly maniacal girl decided to take a walk around the battlefield-she ended up with a dagger slash across her forehead, although it was relatively shallow and easy to heal. Alanna slept fitfully, but was much refreshed after an hour or two, and began cutting and sewing and cleaning with renewed gusto. To her dismay the casualties kept turning up in droves, and all the mages were on their feet continuously. By the time they were allowed to retire for the night, it was almost an hour before midnight, and Alanna dropped, like a stone, into a deep sleep.
The next morning someone clanging two frying pans together rudely awakened Alanna. It was about dawn, and she joined the rest of the younger set in groaning and making depressing faces, but eventually they went back to work. Sometimes it was quite dreary, other times much worse, and very rarely it was extremely fascinating. But it was always bloody, and gory, and fantastically smelly, so Alanna grew to dislike the entire thing. Goddess, she thought, this place is vile, and so it was.
But then one day there was only one fatality. A fatality with thick, wavy hair the color of sun-ripened wheat, and eyes the kind of blue that makes your heart feel free and endlessly joyful. A casualty named Joshua.

A/N: There ya go! I wanted to make it longer but it felt like I was kind of dragging it out as it was, so I didn't. Now you know what I meant by pull a Rowling! (I think you should, anyway.) Ya know, kill a relatively main character? I never liked Josh, anyway. Please R/R, you see that little 'Go' button on the bottom left corner of your screen? Yup? PRESS IT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! And, by the way, I'm gonna be starting another story, for all you Ann Rinaldi fans out there. It's called 'Surrender.' and it's about 'Mine Eyes Have Seen,' but it's from Dauphin's point of view. Should be pretty interesting in the end.:`( *author sobs into pillow*)