I'm sorry it took me so long to update. Please don't hurt me. (covers head)

Disclaimer: Do I really need to write this yet again? (sighs) Alright...I own the plot and my own characters. Tamora Pierce owns the rest. (looks none too happy)


Wondering and Accepting

Chapter Three

It had been a week. Everyday Numair came and tried to convince me that I'm this supposed silver one who's going to save Tortall from a bloody end. And everyday, I would scream at him to get out. He always brought up my past. He always brought up the fact that I've been alone for eleven years of my life.

And everyday I stopped and wondered. Could he be telling the truth? Really, what did he have to gain if this was all a lie? It didn't make sense for him to lie so persistently to me. And yet, if it was truth, then it was impossible to swallow. Me? Save Tortall? I wanted nothing more than to murder their king for what he had done to me. Why would I be their only hope of survival?

There was the familiar squeak of the door, but I didn't turn toward Numair. I debated on just screaming at him to get out, but decided against it today.

"Vayga?" That was not Numair. The voice was distinctly female.

Confused, I turned to see a woman with long, curly brown hair and blue gray eyes standing in front of the closed door. A book sat in her scarred, tanned hands. Sparrows sat on her shoulders, and the little creatures stared curiously at me. There was something unnerving about their gaze, something almost human. I suppressed a shudder, as the woman spoke once again.

"Vayga? I'm Daine. Would you l-"

"You're Numair's wife, aren't you?" My voice was emotionless and dead, uncaring.

She blinked. "Yes. Yes, I am." She paused. "How'd you know that?" There was surprise in her voice, but also a little fear.

Slowly, I stood, my knees cracking on the way up. I drew back the hood of my cloak, allowing her to see my face for the first time. I placed my hands under the cloak, and looked her straight in the eyes. "You're giving me the exact same look that he's been giving me for the past week. A look of pity, of wonder," I paused, "of fear." I turned my back to her. "Please leave." I nearly hit myself over the head. What are you thinking, you dolt! You have no reason to be polite to her! YOU HAVE NO REASON!

"Uh…alright, I'll leave. But Vayga, please, just look at this book. It'll clear a lot of things up for you." And she left.

I stood there a little while longer, before my curiosity got the better of me. Stupid curiosity. A heavy leather bound book sat near the door. From the looks of it, it was ancient, looking to be as old as the gods. I picked it up, my palms warming the hard leather.

Upon opening it, a small cloud of dust arose, and I sneezed roughly, my whole body coming forward, my forehead hit the book, making me bite my tongue.

Blood in my mouth, I looked warily at the first page, only to find that the book was, well, written in a different language. More than just slightly irritated, I flipped through the pages, seeing on symbol repeating constantly. The symbol was identical to the scars on my face.

I threw the pages forward, not really looking at them anymore. But I stopped as a blur of color caught my eye. I flipped that page opened, and the blood froze in my veins.

It was me. There was a picture of me. The details were perfect. And the scene…it was so familiar. It was of a year ago, when I found a tree with blue foliage. Except one thing was off about the picture. The color of my cloak, the length of my hair; it was exact. But as I leaned closer to the picture, I saw the hand that was reaching for the azure leaves, well, that hand was terribly scarred.

Slowly my blood thawed, and slowly, very slowly, I accepted it in my mind. I was this supposed silver one. I was supposed to save Tortall. My head went to my hands.

"Oh great." I whispered.