Disclaimer: The ideas and such belong to Mercedes Lackey. The only thing I own is characters and plot.

This is just an angst-y one-shot type thing that I thought of. Basically, a Karsite is Chosen, like Alberich. Like Alberich, he is angry and confused. Like Alberich, he is offered the opportunity to have the Herald-Companion bond broken. Unlike Alberich, however, he accepts. What will happen to him?

One-shot, mainly written to get rid of writers block on my other story, so it might not be that good. Assume its somewhere in history. I know that Alberich was the first Karsite adult Chosen, but just let this guy be. After all, it is a failed Choosing, sort of.

Now, reviews:

Tenshi: Yeah, thanks. It was supposed to be sad and depressing.

Breezefire: Yeah, maybe you're right. It should have been worse. I'll try to make it worse.

Fireblade: Thanks. But you're right; it could have been much better. I'm going to attempt to fix it.

Wizard: Thanks! I hope you like this version as well.

Crinzin: Thanks!

Akatrin: You're right. I was sort of bent on keeping it a one-shot, but maybe I'll turn it into a short-fic.

AtheneMiranda: Yes, you're right. Thank you very much for your review; it was what really made me decide to try again with this idea. I hope you're happier with version two and hope you find time to read it and review.

I decided to rewrite, even though most of my reviews came back good, because I really wasn't happy with the way it turned out. I'm going to also try changing it from a song-fic to a non song-fic. Tell me what you think.

There will be more chapters after this one. One more, probably. I won't tell you what it will be, though. You'll just have to wait and see.

Chapter 1: Marit

Marit stared gloomily at the tools in his hands. Calloused as his hands were from the hard work of the years, they were beginning to ache at the thought of more planting.

He was supposed to be planting the new crop. His neck and shoulders still ached from the last all day planting session, along with his hands, but he knew that he needed to get the crops in or there would be nothing to eat.

'What with the ridiculous taxes the Sunpriests had been demanding lately, it was a wonder I can even feed myself. Thank the Sunlord I don't have a family to provide for as well!'

Marit squashed that thought firmly back into the mental cupboard it had emerged from. Rank heresy such as that was sure to be punished harshly. The Sunpriests had their ways of ferreting out traitors within the fold, and Marit had no desire to be fodder for the night-demons that roamed Karse, searching out the unfaithful.

Marit's life consisted of one weary routine after another. Since his father's death, he had managed the farm for himself and his mother. As the years passed, she too had sought out the peace of the Sunlord, and Marit had been left alone.

He knew that most people were content, even happy to do what he did. Work in the fields from dawn until dusk, feeding themselves from the profits of their labor, but Marit had never been happy.

He had learned from a very young age not to be lonely, or at least not to be aware of it if he was. Still, he felt almost incomplete. As though he was missing a vital part, and could never be happy or whole until he found it.

The work Marit did, hard physical labor though it was, was incredibly mindless. The same thing, over and over again. As such, it left a plentitude of thinking time, and Marit did not like the way his thoughts had been turning.

Sometimes, he just wanted to leave. Go somewhere else, anywhere else, just to escape the constant sensation of lack.

Marit had only planted about one row when he heard the silvery chime of hoof beats. Being a farm child, and then an adult farmer himself, he knew exactly what a horse sounded like, and that wasn't quite it. It was almost like a horse, but yet it was something more, more than a horse could ever be.

Marit felt a warm breath on his shoulder. He swore softly, sure that one of his animals had somehow escaped again. Then, he turned slowly to find that he was looking straight into the eyes of a white horse. Farmer though he was, Marit was certainly not stupid. He knew what a white horse meant, especially when it was near the Valdemaran border. It was one of the feared Demon Horses of Valdemar, Karse's eternal foes! The soul stealer of legend and lore!

He started to take a step backwards, planning to run before the thing could catch him and steal his soul, but then he met it's eyes.

:Marit, I am no hell-demon. I am a Companion. My name is Sunia. You are my Chosen, and I will never leave you.:

Marit's mouth opened wide in shock. Surely having his soul consumed shouldn't feel so good. For it did feel good. It felt as though he was drowning in a sea of clear blue water, or floating in it, more likely. The water was all around him, warm and comforting, supporting him and holding him up.

He was losing something, something was leaving him. He felt a moment's panic, sure that his soul was being sucked out through his eyes, but then he felt it. The hole that had always been within his soul, exposed and made wider for a moment, began to fill. It filled with the purest love and compassion, more pure than Marit had thought existed in this world or the next.

With a great effort, he jerked himself out of the semi-trance he had fallen into.

"NO!" He yelled as loudly as he could. He could hear the sounds of the soldier stationed with the Sunpriests down in the village making their way up the hill. They must have been following the Hell Demon. He looked over to see them charging as fast as they could, arms at the ready. Surely they would arrive in time!

:Chosen, I'm sorry, but they are coming. We must be away before they get here.:

Marit felt a tinge of gentle regret, and then he was standing up, walking towards the hell-demon and mounting it. His mind struggled incoherently against the bonds that had been placed on it, and Marit cried out in terror, or tried to. He could not open his mouth or move in any way that the hell-demon did not direct. Under her control, he crouched low over her neck, his mind flinching away from the beast, sure that even now, she was taking his soul away from him. He could not resist, could not move, though he struggled with all of his willpower.

He felt a gentle regret in his mind, then everything went black and Marit knew nothing more.

When Marit awoke, he was nearly incoherent with terror. Everything was different. He had no idea where he was. This place was strange and alien, the walls painted a shade of green that he would never have allowed in his home, a pale garden-variety green. The bed was far softer and more luxuriant than he was accustomed to, with plump pillows, and even the air smelled different. Then, there was the matter of Her. He was never unaware that there was another presence in his mind, sitting in the back of it, ready to jump out. It was like his clothes didn't quite fit, and were rubbing constantly, no matter how much he tried to put it out of his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes and stretched, trying to smooth his coarse sandy hair into some sort of order with his hand. As his blurry double visions converged into the room he was in, he saw a young man standing in front of him. He was a tall brunette, hair confined into a horsetail behind his head. He was wearing, Marit shuddered in terror, the distinctive white uniform of Karse's traditional enemies. The hell-horse had delivered him right into the hands of the most dangerous enemy Karse had!

The demon-rider opened his mouth, and out came a torrent of friendly sounding babble, of which Marit understood not one word.

Marit flinched as he heard the voice in his head again.

:Oops, sorry, dear. Forgot to give you the language.:

Marit grimaced in fear and discomfort as he felt a sharp twist in his brain. He blinked, seeing double again for a second.

The demon-rider stared off into space for a second, then smiled in a way that Marit supposed was meant to be friendly, although it felt anything but.

"I am Dean Ayren. You must be our newest Trainee, Marit. You can understand me, yes?"

"And I would not be able to, why? Karsite, you are speaking, no?" Marit replied, puzzled.

"Actually, no. Your Companion, that's Sunia, should have given you the basics of the Valdemaran tongue just now. Unless I miss my guess, that is what you just spoke, is it not?"

"To my life, what have you done? Your Hell Demon carry me off, did. Why?" Marit asked, ignoring the Dean's question, as he had certain more pressing questions of his own to which he needed answers. He was hardly going to ask the hell-demon, and this demon-rider seemed strangely willing to help.

"To make you one of us." The Dean replied, seemingly unconscious of the turmoil is Marit's mind.

"No! Join you, I will not! Kill my people, you did. Unleash demons upon them, you did. Unleash this demon, Sunia, on me, you did! Go away, make this."

"Marit, you can stay here with your Companion and become one of us. She is not a demon; she will be your best friend, the true companion of your heart and soul, if you will allow her to. We never did what you think. I promise you, things are a lot different here than you have been told." The Dean said calmly.

"Want this, I don't. Make it go away, can you?" Marit insisted. He was not going to be fooled by a demon-rider into betraying everything he believed in!

"Well, Marit, there is a way, I must admit. We do not usually tell this to our Trainees, but your situation is different for several reasons. It is possible for us to break the bond you have with Sunia, your Companion. There is a drawback, though. It will leave you both, well, broken." The Dean said, reluctantly. "Surely you have always felt alone, maybe a little bit lost? If you lose Sunia, now that you have just found her, all of that old pain will return, but ten times greater than it ever was. And there is no going back. If you choose this, we cannot undo what we have done."

"It, do."

"Are you sure, Marit? If you do this, there's no going back. Please reconsider. We, the Heralds, need you."

"This, I do not want. My farm, all I want, is."

"Alright, Marit. But we cannot do this yet. Once you have spent a little time with your Companion, you may change your mind. Please think it over. We will give you a sleeping draught to make you sleep until tomorrow and regain the last of your strength. When you awaken, we will allow you to make your final decision."

Marit sighed at the delay, but who knew what horrible magics the demon-rider would perform on him if angered. He reluctantly agreed and took the sleeping draught.

Unknown to Marit, as he dropped off into sleep, he reached out a tender mental hand for Sunia, holding her tightly as he slept, as a little holds a favorite toy, protection from the monsters in the nighttime.

The next morning, Marit arose with the sun, as was his habit. The Healers had left more medicine for him to take, so he downed it, finding that it took away the last of the pain he was feeling.

After about half a mark, the Dean showed up, again dressed in immaculate white demon-rider garb.

He saw the look on Marit's face, and hardly needed to ask his question, although he did anyway, with a feeling of deep despair in his heart for Sunia and Marit.

"Marit, do you still want to go through with this?" The Dean asked gently.

Marit was doubtful. He remembered the peaceful feeling of sleeping with Sunia in the back of his mind, remembered the instant he had first seen her, how beautiful and loving she had been. He opened his mouth, preparing to say that he would stay, but then he remembered the teachings of the Sunpriests.

These demon-riders were evil! They would corrupt him, force him to kill his own people, unleash more demons upon his own land. He would not succumb to their will! He would not allow them to make him into a traitor to his own country!

"It, do. Chosen, I have."

"Very well." Ayren said, his eyes pain-filled.

Marit felt Sunia in his mind, for the last time. Her tone was heartbreaking, but he steeled his resolve. He savored the moment, holding it close in his mind, holding every memory of her tight to his heart, knowing that he would never feel this complete again.

It was only right that he sacrifice his happiness for the life of his people, and surely he would not be that happy anyway. Surely it was not a real feeling, but a projection from the demon-riders.

Still, Marit could hardly bear to let her go. He tried to fix her in his mind exactly as she was, knowing that he would never again hear her voice, except in dreams.

:Oh Chosen, my Chosen, my love, is this what you want? I love you. I just want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy with me. I know you love me, and you could be happy here if you tried! Are you sure about this, Chosen?:

:Do it.: He thought at her as loudly as he could, barely containing the sob that rose in his throat.

He could already feel her remote withdrawal, bracing herself for the pain.

:Very well, love.:

Marit felt as though he was falling. Some part of him that he never knew he had was splintering into thousands of pieces. He must surely be dying of the pain. In his mortal form, tears began to slip down his cheeks, unchecked. The pain, the pain. The cold, harsh pain. Like a thousand swords of ice protruding into him everywhere and shattering. Somewhere far away, he heard himself scream.

Every nerve was on fire with heat and cold at the same time, but the physical pain was not the worst part. There was such bleak drear emptiness, as though Marit wandered forever on a gray plain, devoid of sight or sound, never again to be complete. Then, suddenly, there was blackness, but, in it's own way, it hurt worse than the pain or the grayness. There was nothing in the blackness. No touch, no senses at all.

Marit could no longer even feel his own body. He was alone, so achingly alone. He must surely be dying from the pain of it. Then, mercifully, Merit fainted.

When Marit first awoke, he couldn't remember why he hurt. Then, it all came back to him. Unconsciously, he reached out for Sunia and found that she was not there. Tears began to roll down his cheeks again. He wanted her, he needed her.

When he looked up, the Dean was still standing there, waiting for Marit to awake. He seemed to ignore Marit's tears.

"You are free to go." He said, not unkindly, feeling the farmer's pain in every limb of his own body, but unable to help.

"Sunia. Where?" Marit gasped out the words, barely able to speak.

"Gone. The bond has been broken. It will get better over time, though you will never be fully whole. She will be out in the field. She will pine herself to death, in all likelihood, longing for you. You will live, but you will always be without her."

In the few short days that Marit had been bonded to Sunia, she had worked her way into every crevice of his heart. With the untrained power of his mind alone, he reached after her, crying out for her with his mind. He cried out for her, but she did not come. She had left him.

He knew that she would come if she could, but she could no longer hear him.

Marit left the house of Healing and began stumbling blindly, he had no idea where. He felt filled with pain. The pain was taking him over. Surely the cold emptiness would kill him any moment. There was truly nothing left.

He passed a field. It was filled with Hell Demons, no, Companions. One, the saddest looking, was bending over the fence looking at him. Somehow, he knew that it was Her, although he could not feel her with his mind.

As he watched, the Companion shed a single tear, eyes brimming with many more. Her every movement spoke of despair and hopelessness, so deeply did she mourn the loss of her Chosen.

:Sunia, Sunia. I love you, I need you. Take me back.: Marit sobbed in apology, dropping to his knees in front of her. He would pay any price, overcome any hardship to be with her.

She turned her back, although not before Marit could see the pain written in every line of that beautiful, familiar form. She may as well have been in Karse for all that Marit could make her hear him. He sank to the ground, unable to move.

He watched her walk away. Through his tears, he could see her. There were many Companions, so many, but he would know her anywhere.

He fixed her in his mind one last time, holding the memory close. It was all he would ever have of her.

He gathered it in his mind, her perfect tail, smooth white flank and soft coat. The poetry of her motion. He held it close to his heart, as close as he had once held her.

"I love you, Sunia." He whispered tearfully to the dirt. "I'm sorry."