Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters, all but those you've seen mentioned in Mercedes Lackey's books and Karissa, who emphatically refuses to be owned by anyone.
Right, basically this is just a little something that popped into my head after an interesting review on Greens. If you haven't read Greens yet, you probably should. This one-shot'll stand alone, but its better to have some background on Herald Karissa, or you'll spend a lot of time wondering what the heck the point of this piece is.
There may be a couple of minor discrepancies between this and Greens, so bear with me. If you haven't read Greens, feel free to skip this paragraph. Karissa knows Lirain somewhat through Lirain's parents. She has a sort of a minor scale love-hate relationship with Healers in general and she can't abide the House of Healing, although by Greens, she's pretty much locked the whole mess somewhere far away in her mind, so she can deal with Treet.
Now, before I cut all this boring author junk, let me make two things clear. First, Karissa is definitely not shaych. I have nothing against shaych characters, but she is not and never will be. Secondly, or maybe firstly, since this is the more specific one. Karissa was NOT Lifebonded to Sari! Nothing even close. I'm not going to pull a Herald Vanyel, I'm not that melodramatic.
I know Greens is long overdue for an update, but I have incredible writers block, hence this little fic, which will hopefully enable me to proceed with the story. Enjoy, and sorry if it came out badly, I wasn't quite sure about it.
Anyway, with all that rubbish out of the way, let me get on with the writing. Feel free to read and review.
I'm not too sure what this turned out to be. It was supposed to be a non-romantic piece of fluffy junk, written in my head for amusement during math class, but somehow it got sort of deep and odd and less funny than it was meant to be. Yeah, bring a shovel.
Orientation"Alright, kids! Sit down and close your mouths!" Karissa ordered in her best parade ground voice, trying to sound happy and welcoming. She used a choice piece of slang that she had picked up from one of the Heralds who had been a gutter rat before his Choosing and had endlessly confused all of his Yearmates, including Karissa, with his odd phrasings and turns of speech.
One of the young Trainees, a girl of about eleven years, particularly young for a newly Chosen, shook her head, her eyes beginning to fill. "I am NOT a baby goat," she sniffled. "Kaika said Heralds were nice! Why did you call me a goat? I want to go home."
As the girl's Yearmates were prompted to think of their own homes, many of which were far away, a wave of homesickness, almost palpable to someone with Karissa's Gifts, swept the room, although most of the new Trainees, being older, didn't threaten tears as the younger girl did.
"All right everyone, settle down," Karissa implored, waving her hands in fruitless calming motions.
The Trainees flinched collectively at the shrill note in her voice. For the most part, they were not all that homesick, mostly nervous about the new situation in which they had found themselves. Their Companions would help take care of that, and they would soon find that they were welcome to visit their families during breaks. Until then, however, well, Karissa had a problem. She winced.
:Having troubles?: Veria, Karissa's Companion, interjected, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Karissa's reply came as close to a growl as it is possible to come in Mindspeech. :I don't know what in the Havens the Dean was thinking, giving me this assignment!: Karissa sent, mentally cursing the circumstances that had landed her in this position.
:She was thinking that there wasn't anybody else.: Veria reminded her.
Karissa didn't need reminding. It seemed like an eternity since she had met with the Dean that morning, yet the memory was as clear as the Terilee in springtime.
Karissa had woken up that morning in her own bed, her first real bed in moons. She had been looking forward to a few nights of comfort before departing on her next circuit. She stretched luxuriously, enjoying the feeling of warm blankets covering her and soft pillows under her head.
When she finally sat up, she found herself blinking blearily at her own ceiling, which was pleasant. She rarely had time to use her rooms in Haven, short handed as the Heralds were, but they still carried an unmistakable tinge of her personality.
Although austere, the wall decorations were exactly as she liked them, and a thick rug prevented her from freezing her feet on the cold wooden floor of a morning. After all, what else did she have to spend her stipend on? Her taste had never really run to small trinkets, and she had long since severed contact with her family, cutting their ties as a way of decreasing the painful reminders that haunted every family reunion.
As for friends, she'd never really had them. Not close ones, anyway. Every Herald was her brother or sister, but there was no one that she called friend or lover. If she had, they would probably have told her to take herself over to the House of Healing or marched her there themselves to see a Mindhealer, she thought ruefully.
She was away from Haven most of the time and among the unGifted at that, so nobody really noticed how much she still hurt. "Sari, ah Sari," she sighed, the old pain as fresh and jagged as it had been the summer of her thirteenth year. She knew that she should find someone to put her right, for Valdemar's sake as much as her own, but the old fear of Healers still held strong. The thought of walking into the House of Healing turned her icy with fear. The last time she'd tried, she'd been too uncomfortable to stay and she'd felt sick inside whenever she thought about it for days afterwards.
Karissa snapped herself out of her maudlin thoughts, avoiding the sensitive memories she kept locked away and frowning at the need to get up and out of bed.
When she finally get dressed and headed for the bathing room, she was surprised to see a note tacked to her door. She blinked at it, recognizing the spidery handwriting at once as belonging to the Dean of the Herald's Collegium.
"Herald Karissa," it said. "I need to meet with you today regarding your next assignment. A crisis of the usual sort has come up and we need you to fill in for another Herald. Please come by my office as soon as you receive this note. Yours, Dean Sarena."
Karissa frowned at the note in her hand. She had expected to have at least a day of leisure before riding out again. Well, the Dean wouldn't have used the word crisis if she didn't mean exactly that. Karissa sighed. Her duty was clear, much as she hated the idea of another circuit.
Barely half a Candlemark later, freshly bathed and clad in clean Whites, her only such set, left over from her last stay in Haven, Karissa presented herself outside the Dean's office.
She rapped firmly on the door, schooling her face to calm. The door was opened on the second knock. The Dean smiled as her from the doorway, motioning for her to enter. It was the sort of smile usually followed by a request for volunteers for some not-so-pleasant task. Karissa saw it and wondered what the Dean was up to, half-wondering if she would be allowed to take the Dean's head off first, for personal relief.
"Good day, Herald Karissa," The Dean said formally. She was nondescript, an attribute that had served her well in her years on circuit. She looked exactly like what she was, one of the fisher folk, who lived and died on the borders of Lake Evendim, and she exuded a palpable aura of stability and confidence.
Karissa nodded curtly, not inclined to be charitable, and followed the Dean into her office.
"Take a seat," the Dean urged, still smiling. Karissa sat and waited for the mystery to reveal itself. The Dean seated herself across from Karissa, behind her desk.
"As you may know," the Dean began, "A fever has been making its way around the Court and Collegia recently."
Karissa did not know, having been away from Haven for over a year, but she nodded anyway.
"Herald Lorin, our Orientation teacher, has fallen sick. The Healers say that he will recover, but he'll need weeks of rest before he can assume his duties again. Normally, we would hold the class until he recovered, but most of our new Trainees are either Borderbred or the offspring of minor nobles who live far from Haven, and one is only eleven. Many of them know nothing about Collegium life and most of them are nervous and homesick, so we need to get them integrated as soon as possible," the Dean explained, looking expectantly at Karissa.
"I see," Karissa said, although she didn't. "I assume you'll be getting one of the other teachers to cover the class?"
"We've called someone back from circuit, but their estimated arrival time isn't for a few Candlemarks."
"Ah," Karissa said, finding herself on familiar ground. "You want me to take over his circuit?"
She would have preferred a week of rest herself before riding out again, but she could think of worse duties than another circuit.
Bright Havens! For a second, she had almost thought that Sarena was going to make her the Orientation teacher until the other Herald showed up.
The Dean coughed uncomfortably. "Well yes, starting tomorrow. Unfortunately, Herald Mardic just sent us a message. He's been delayed by an urgent conflict just outside of Haven. It had escalated to the point of physical force and would have destroyed half the town if not for his timely arrival. Through unlucky circumstances and extreme short handedness, you're the only Herald without a class or duty at the correct hour to take the class. You leave on circuit tomorrow, but until then, your duty is to run our newest lot through the basics."
Seeing the alarmed look on Karissa's face, Sarena continued coaxingly. "It's only for today, of course. Two Candlemarks and then you're done. You remember what your Orientation teacher said to you on your first day."
Taking Karissa's silence for assent, the Dean shooed Karissa out of her office. "Good. You're all set. Better get going. Same room as always, and tomorrow don't forget to tell the supply master that you're doing Sorrows 1." With that, the Dean firmly closed the door, leaving Karissa stunned, mouth half open in unvoiced protest.
Veria, who had been listening in, chose that moment to comment. :Oh, Chosen, I don't mean to laugh, but this is quite absurd. With your reputation, they must be short indeed to put you in front of a class.:
The accompanying image caused Karissa's milk pale face to go red with blush. :I would not chase them around the room like that! Well, not with that sized stick anyway! And I neither have fangs nor a height of seven feet, thank you very much!: Karissa sent in an insulted tone.
:I know, love. Come on, pull yourself together and go to your classroom. You have a good half Candlemark left, but I imagine you'll want to be early.: Veria remarked in a conciliatory tone.
Karissa had grudgingly agreed and spent her half Candlemark sitting in the classroom with her head in her hands trying valiantly to remember her first Orientation class, nearly a decade before.
Karissa was jolted back to reality by the insistent tugging of a small grimy hand at the sleeve of her Whites.
"Herald? My – my Companion" he enunciated carefully, flushing as he stumbled over the unfamiliar word. "My Companion told me that you'd tell us what it means to be a Herald. I want to understand, please."
He looked so solemn and earnest that Karissa couldn't help but warm to him a little. So like Sari, always wanting to know, to understand, to touch. Karissa suppressed a shudder that she didn't quite manage to turn into a smile. She squared her shoulders and wasted a moment wondering which of the Companions had been feeling particularly mischievous. Then she assumed her best control-a-gaggle-of-village-maidens-in-full-feather-headed-glory voice and said firmly "A very good question, Trainee. What's your name?"
"Pol," He said matter-of-factly.
"Ah, Trainee Pol." She raised her voice. "Trainee Pol here has just asked a very good question. Do any of you know the answer?"
A few moments of deafening silence passed before one of the Trainees in the back informed her that she hadn't told them the question.
Karissa, never quite at her best in front of people, blushed. Behind her Herald mask, she was as competent as any could wish, but she was "Home" and home meant, or usually meant, a brief escape from the façade she donned during circuits.
"The question is…" '…What god decided to have it in for me today and how much does the Dean owe me for this?' she continued silently to herself before finishing. "What does it mean to be a Herald?"
She knew, of course, that it was only her duty to do as she was assigned, but the thought of collecting from the sober and dutiful Dean enabled her to smile through the rest of the question. She was momentarily shamed that she had thought something so un-Heraldic, but the class clamored for her attention, leaving no time for further self-recrimination.
Karissa went through the usual round of questions and answers about Choosing, being a Herald and the Collegium, Veria saving her when she faltered, mostly without a hitch, although when they thought she wasn't looking, she could see the Trainees giving her awed and frightened glances from the corners of their eyes.
:Part of that is just the way they treat all Heralds right now, Chosen. Most Orientation teachers are better equipped to defuse it, that's all.: Veria interjected.
:Well, how do I defuse it, oh wise one? If they stare at me for much longer, I'll have to bite one of their heads off, and that wouldn't exactly reinforce the nice-Herald image we're working on here.:
Her tone was facetious, but Veria knew she meant it. Karissa felt her Companion go blank in her mind, just as a renewed clamor started up.
"How were the first Heralds created?" Someone asked.
Karissa remembered this part. Telling the story of Baron Valdemar would be a good way to pass the time, and she probably remembered most of the main points. They had killed time that way at her Orientation too.
Just as Karissa was getting to the end, the sound of feet walking quickly down the hallway was audible even over Karissa's voice.
'What in the world? I thought everyone had a class right now?" Karissa muttered.
Before she could open the door and demand what was going on, the door opened and a tall blond man peered inside, obviously having stopped in his rooms for a new set of Whites and a fast bath, but just as obviously right off the trail.
:Your reinforcements.: Veria said smugly.
:You amaze me.: Karissa admitted. :What did you do?:
:Sent an urgent message or so. Persuaded Evalie and Mardic to pile on the speed in time to catch the end of your performance.:
:Thank you.: Karissa said, imbuing the words with her gratitude. She stood up and shakily nodded to the Herald, who had already walked in and begun to banter with the class in a friendly sort of way.
As she staggered her way down the hallway, the thought penetrated her hazy mind that she must look as though she was drunk. She fumbled with the doorknob and barely made it to the bed before passing out.