Yay!!! Me is getting many many much reviews. Me is happy : ). Me is also a little bit hyper and a little bit insaaane. Heh. Now,. . . down to business. . .

Dilemma: No lack of ideas, no worries: ). But thanks anyhow. My ego's just taken a

biiiiiiiiiiig rise!

Shadowcub: I agree with you completely. I don't really wanna be sliced to pieces before

I reach forty. I generally, except for Van cuz he's cool and so I'm biased, categorize heralds under bold, reckless, and slightly insane.: )

Aga: Heh. Oh ya, showers. . . Heheh. Stupid me. . .

Suesmommy: But I can't disgrace the great electrolyte by changing its name!! God

knows it's saved my horses so many times!!

Jezebel: Oh wow, you are evil: ). But he does do something a liiiittle mean to free up

Maie's time. . .

Tessabe: Thanks for the advice!! The assassin, yes, but Maie is supposed to be nameless,

faceless, and unseen by everyone. . . unless just before she kills them. Maie's actually in my other, long ago story, An Unseen Shadow. She was. . . very cool there. And yup, she divorced herself from all emotions. . . very different from now.

Wizard116: THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!!!!!! I've had six reviews from

you in. . . six chapters. . . wow. . . you're my best friend: )!!! Heh, but really, thanks so much. You've been. . . what's the word?. . . Inspirational.: )

Ooookie, must get out of hyper mode and get to the story. The evils of the dark companion, coming your way!

P.s. notice that 'dark' stands for the color as well as the personality!

p.p.s. just in case you guys think I'm overusing words like comfortless and dark and all, I'm trying to drive those things in, you know, like drill them into your brains. Mwahaha.

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Magic?

"You mean. . . witchcraft?"

An amused, sardonic eye of blood red raised in answer.

:No, girl, I mean magic.:

Maie hadn't even known magic existed. The only 'magic' used in her little village was by an aged crone who was more often wrong than right in her weather forecasts. There was no such thing as real magic. . .

. . . was there?

:Idiot girl, of course there is. Do you honestly believe the stories of Vanyel Ashkevron false?:

"No, of course not!" Maie denied vehemently, but her brain was clouding and spinning in confusion. Of course Vanyel was real, but he was told to have used magic, and magic was not real. But they had to be both fact or both fiction. She tried in vain to rub off a brewing headache. Why did everything have to contradict with each other?

Still. . . learning magic. Being able to do magic. . . A little gleam in her otherwise frustrated eyes gave away much. Magic was strength. Magic was power. And power. . .

Startled, she jerked herself out of that line of thought. Horrified at herself, she hurriedly returned to quickly brushing the companion down. She was not corrupt. She was not power-hungry. It was from the lack of sleep, she told herself frantically. Which led to a very obvious question.

"I don't really have enough time as it is," she told Daëmor, just as an excuse and to give her time to think.

:It matters not,: came the sinister reply, :certain. . .arrangements. . . can be made.:

What the arrangements were, Maie didn't think she really needed to know. Maybe more magic. Maybe not. Either way, she didn't want to know.

:Shall we, then?: the dark companion said, a question that really was more a statement than a question. Maie nodded gingerly in answer, and silently followed Daëmor as he pushed away the remainder of his feed and strode silently out of the stable. His iron shod hooves clicked against cobblestone as he led Maie to a little room far away from the waystation, much farther than her previous fifty step record.

It was. . . a room. That was the only way it could be described, not because it was so special, or so amazing, but rather because it was not special, or amazing, at all. It was black, of course, without any furniture, be it rug or painting or anything whatsoever. Completely empty and bleak, it reminded Maie that there were in fact places more comfortless than her little waystation a little ways away. There was, however, a little surprise: the walls and floor were of marble, pure, black, marble, not wood.

:There have been occasions in which. . . heralds. . . have lost control of their magic. To have the room, and so the waystation and forest, set fire would be. . . annoying.: There was a little mental smirk at the word 'herald', but Maie decided that it was not the time to brood about that.

"Oh, well. . ." That's comforting, was the little thought that stayed unspoken. There was no room for doubts, not now. The time for those were lost past over.

"Let's start, then," she said instead.

Daëmor gave her one long, calculating gaze, sharp eyes piercing into what seemed like her very soul. Then sharp teeth clicked once, twice, and he nodded slowly.

:Let's start, then,: he repeated slowly, amused.

:We begin with the shielding.:

Maie nodded expectantly, ears pricked to hear some secret word or line or phrase. What she got was something different. Something very, very different.

It was as if something-someone- had forcibly forced his way inside of her brain. She could feel a cold, dark presence that made her want to shudder in disgust. Except that she couldn't shudder. She couldn't do much of anything at all. And that was even worse than the cold, the black presence she knew was Daëmor.

With a mental scream, she tried in vain to wrench herself back, to throw that dark thing away from her mind.

:Get away from here! Get away from me!!: What??

:Yes,: Daëmor replied in sardonic amusement, :that was mindspeech. I thought you might have it.:

But Maie was in too much panic to notice. Struggling to free herself, to free her mind, to do anything, she tried to claw herself back into her mind.

:It's my mind! Get out!:

:Silence.: the sharp command stilled Maie for just a split second, but that split second was enough for the companion to instill further control and command.

:Now,: he said in a voice that brooked no argument whatsoever, :this is what shielding should feel like.:

And she would feel it, she just had to calm herself down a bit. Companions did what was right. There must be a reason to do this! And, reasoning to herself, she maybe could find why.

It was so much more convenient, so much faster, to do it. . . this way. How much faster could you learn to, for example, ride, if an instructor controlled your every movement and you just sat back and. . . learned. To be able to feel what was right was. . .

Just plain wrong.

But, of course, she had no other choice. She had to learn.

:And learn fast,:Daëmor said in his soft, sardonic, silky black voice that Maie was beginning to hate.

:And learn fast,: she agreed shortly.

:Show me again.: