Heya!
Hehe...sorry for my cliffhangers-sorry doesn't mean I'm gonna stop them.:)I like being evil.
And i'm working on my default chapter now.
AND longer chapters:). Thanks for the advice! Enjoy and pleeeaaaase review!!!!
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The queen stared unseeingly at the piece of parchment, that pale hand that was hers clutching the oak table tightly for reassurance. Her court was gone, all her guards given leave, all her handmaidens ordered away. It was just her in the suddenly comfortless room, reading the suddenly comfortless piece of parchment.
Oh, she knew very well about the dark companion, and of course, knowing that, had to know about the dark herald. But she had never expected a choosing. At least not in her lifetime.
For a dark herald to be needed again, to make that human sacrifice of the newly chosen herald, Valdemar would have to be facing very, very much.
She knew the fate that would come to the chosen, presumably young, presumably naïve, presumably altogether too trusting. The type of person who was just...good. Those were the types the dark companion would choose.
Sacrifice the good for a greater good. Sacrifice the pure for a more important, corruption dotted pure. She must choose. She had no choice.
Send the girl to that fate.
A fate worse than death.
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Even as she screamed, she knew it was quite useless. No one in this remote little village was very likely to come; they lived miles off, and even if they decided her life was worth the bother, she would be long dead by the time they'd reached her.
Her mother, well that was a given. She probably thought Maie was having a little tantrum, if she heard the scream at all; she was so used to tuning out everything her daughter said she might as well have been deaf.
Which meant that there was absolutely no one to help her.
Which meant death.
:Idiot girl.:
Maie couldn't quite get past her fear enough to be affronted.
:Idiot girl, if I were wanting to eat you believe me I would not have waited to be seen.: Sarcasm dripped condescendingly from each coolly spoken word.
Not to kill? Huh? What then? Huh?
:I like my prey unwary…so much easier that way.: the monster's voice could have been described as bored if it were not quite so. . . insulting.
Staring in incoherent shock, Maie could only bob her head stupidly in what the. . . thing seemed to take simply as idiocy.
:I'm a companion, girl,: it said sardonically, as if it were somehow very amusing, :My name is Daëmor. I choose you.:
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Now Maie knew what it was like to only be able to draw a huge, white blank. And although she was loath to be seen, as she was now, as some little country fool, there wasn't much she could do to wrench herself out of it.
She'd read all there was to read about Heralds and Companions. She knew everything about them, their history, their duties... their choosings...
And choosings were supposed to be wonderful!
She'd always read of choosings to have been something wonderful, as in trumpets-blaring-and-blazing-sunshine wonderful, or even as in gently-laughing-drizzle-and-sweetly-singing-breeze wonderful. Or even anything in between. But it was supposed to be wonderful.
She hadn't expected this. . . darkness. This doom and gloom chilling-ness. And definitely not this fear. But the mindspeech was there, and the feeling that something of utmost importance had happened. And companions couldn't lie.
There was little doubt in her mind that he was a companion. Companions, in her mind, were essentially talking horses. Who, granted, could do all sorts of incredible, magical things like run at amazing speeds, or gallop tirelessly, or be incredibly smart. But who were still, in essence, horses.
Which was a singularly stupid thing to think, but it was easier to talk to this. . . companion as a talking horse than to a big, black, scary monster.
And since she'd have to be with this big, black, scary monster from now on...
"So. . . what happens now? I mean, we go to Haven and all, right?" she asked, quickly shaking off the thought as irrelevent. She wondered why she'd never heard of any black companion before.
:Of course not. I, and you from now on, am more, ah, unique than any. . . normal companion and herald. We go to a waystation, in isolation and hidden even from the eyes of heralds.: Now Daëmor shifted his weight in slight impatience, :We shall leave now, if you will.:
"Oh of course, but I need to pack, I've got belongings, you know, little somethings to bring along." Weren't chosens able to take their things?
:You will have no need for them there. Come. We must make haste.:
That was a direct order, and Maie could only gaze helplessly at her frightened horse, her little cottage, her past life.
But I'll have a better life, and a brighter present. And I'll have a chance to dream. And that, she knew, was the deciding factor. To be able to dream. To be able to reach her dream.
And so she mounted, gripped tightly onto the mud-tangled locks of coarse, black mane. She held on as the companion surged forwards, away from her past, into her future. And as they swept away, she reminded herself that she had nothing to hold her, no hopes that she could reach for, no dreams that she could achieve.
Yet the dread was still there, and the certainty of fear.
A little, crystal tear escaped from the prison of her blinking eyes, rolling softly into freedom, into future, falling slowly to the blurred landscape. It hit the unforgiving dirt path, breaking into a million tiny droplets of purity.
And was slowly engulfed by the dark, dirt road.
