If I Were a Herald

Chapter One

Bad Magic Day

Okay, just for the record. I am a true aspiring writer. It's not a hobby for me; it's a passion. Take away my pen and paper and I will write on the walls in my own blood. I am writing this story in an effort to refine my own personal style of writing. I chose to devote time and effort to this fic because I started it recently (meaning that it actually has some good writing), and fanfiction stories actually get reviews. These reviews (hopefully) help me grow and mature as an author. But reviewing is up to the reader. That's you. I sincerely hope that you will read this story and give me detailed feedback on what I'm doing right or wrong. However, one-line reviews are also encouraged. Just tell me that you're reading it and you think it's worth continuing. It gives me incentive to continue.

That's right, folks. It's back! And better than ever before. I present you "If I Were a Herald," with the novel addition of an actual plot!

Right. So what is the plot? Well. This is the story of what would really happen if some crazy girl who's read all of Misty's books found herself suddenly transported to Valdemar, with myself as the main character, because, well, that's what the title is all about. Mostly I'm only re-writing this because the last rendition sucked (except for the equation of me + knives me running and screaming my head off; unfortunately I've matured beyond that point), but the title was awesome. Basically I find myself saddled with a white horse-thing that calls itself a Companion, and a whole new set of rules. I mean, come on. I want to be a pirate, for crying out loud! And if not that, then a Bard. Instead I find myself in training at the Heraldic Collegium, with a few classes at Bardic thrown in for good measure. Meanwhile, I'm plagued by some very strange dreams…

A/N (10/12/05): I'm going to be bending some of ff.mort's rules a little. Okay, more than a little. So if the story is removed, that's why. If that happens, I'll be sure to post it on my group, WritersBootCamp. The only reason I post things on ff.mort is because people actually read them. And I like to collect reviews.

A/N (1/20/06): I've removed song lyrics that are not mine or public domain. If you want to find the lyrics, go to my group "Writers' Boot Camp." It's a yahoo group. I'll be uploading the entire story there--the official version.

Disclaimer: Uh, it's been so long since I've done this I forgot to put this the first time around. Don't own Valdemar, at least not yet, but it's all part of my nefarious plan, which Lyrna keeps thwarting. Don't own the songs, either. At least not the ones mentioned in this chapter.

I sat at my computer, staring at the screen without really seeing it. The computer was an old broken Toshiba laptop, about four years old. It had belonged to my sister before me. Quite a pretty computer. The outside was a shiny blue color, and it had a gold JCL sticker covering up my sister's name. A year ago, the fan broke, and there wasn't time enough to fix it, and Toshiba parts are extremely hard to come by. So my parents got her a new computer, a Dell, and gave this one to my little brother to fix. He didn't do so great a job, although through some miracle he got it working again. So when I left for college in the middle of August, Dad bought me an external fan, which only worked through divine intervention. Between that and the internal fan, the computer managed to remain cool enough to function.

The reason I wasn't really looking at the screen was that I was too busy listening to the music I'd just downloaded. This last batch was a bunch of filk, most of it by Mercedes Lackey. The current song was "The Sunhawks." Good song. I smiled as I listened. It was a feral, anticipatory smile. The guy addressed in the song was a real bastard. Killed his own sister. Or somesuch thing. I'd read the story a while back. Didn't actually say what happened to Idra in the song. "By Priestess, Mage, and Common Man, you're thrice declared forsworn." He deserved what was coming to him. "And the one who guards your life is yet another Sunhawk too." Now that's gotta suck, for him I mean, since his sister was the Sunhawks' leader, and they all found out how he'd screwed them over.

Then "The Patterns of Amber" began to play. "My brothers all are traitors, and my sisters all are crazy, with no consciences to speak of, and with morals vague and hazy. But then who am I to try and put their actions to the test, when I have done the same and am no better than the rest?" My sister was going to love that song. Fall Break was only two days off—Dad was coming the next day around three to pick me up. I'd get to see my family again. And my cats. The cats were really more important. My sister would be home, too, and she totally loved Roger Zelazny's Amber books. Actually, she loved anything Zelazny.

The next song was "Demonbane." The problem with that one was that I'd memorized it as a poem, not a song. So in my mind, the words were disconnected from the tune. Another problem was that I knew a slightly different version from the one in the song. Made it kinda hard to sing along. "So turn you back, Lord Nedran, if of me you are afraid." Then the demons. I acted out Vanyel's part as I listened to the song. Gathering power around my hands to turn the demons back. I could feel the power growing around me, yet it was simply my overactive imagination. Maybe it had never been this vivid before, yet what else could it be?

And "Nightblades." God I love that song. "They come creeping out of darkness and to darkness they return. In their wake they leave destruction. Where they go, no one can learn. For they leave no trace in passing, as if all who watched were blind. Like a dream of evil sending, Nightblades passing, Nightblades rending, into darkness once more blending, leaving only dead behind."

Then came the song that changed my life. Literally. Looking back, I swear it was the fault of the song. "Magic's Price." Maybe it was because the song was about magic. Maybe I had some slight magic that managed to work in the incredibly mundane world known as Earth, and listening to the song sparked my powers. "For Vanyel looked, and Vanyel knew an ancient evil's face." Ma'ar. The bastard. In more senses than one. Bloody reincarnating bad guy.

I felt power growing around me again, but thought it my overly vivid imagination, as before. Ma'ar must die. I could feel power flowing to me from the computer.

My computer beeped at me, interrupting my reverie. Oh. The last cd had finished burning. I put it in the cd case and threw the case in my trunk, preparing for fall break. I'd just moved two days before—bloody brilliant idea in the middle of exam week—so I'd saved time by packing my trunk for fall break at the same time as I packed it for switching rooms. And got my computer up just in time to print out my papers for my Caribbean History midterm, which was due this morning. Despite being a computer pirate, I was technologically challenged. Probably one of the reasons fantasy appealed so much to me.

The printer, like the external fan, only worked through divine intervention, so it took like thirty minutes to print the papers. But by God I got them printed.

One of the few things I could do on a computer was burn music. So I'd been burning all the songs I was downloading. The computer had recently been showing signs of an imminent meltdown, and I was worried that I might lose all my wonderful songs. So I'd gotten the blank cd's and a heckload of extra batteries for my cd player, a purple concoction that I'd sprayed with blue sparkly hair stuff. Which really didn't stay on very well.

I switched screens to the internet one, with Microsoft Outlook, to check my mail. Nothing important. Old mails included the one about Thursday Night at the Theater. I might just have to go to that. Dukes of Hazzard was playing. I'd been wanting to see that movie for a while. I mean, the commercials included a car doing flying stunts. How could I not want to see it? And sexual innuendos. Can't forget the innuendos. There was another one, about a New College Democrats meeting at nine in Ham Center. Free food. Maybe I'd have to show up and crash their party. I was a Republican.

I smiled as "The Leslac Version" began to play. "Hey, barkeep shut that minstrel up and bring another beer." Basically Tarma and Kethry are thirsty and looking for a drink. They find this tyrant holding up a bar, "drunk as a pig." "He tripped on Warrl's tail and took exception to my face." He trips again—over a chair. "About that time he turned around. I got him with a broom." Bloody hilarious song. "Don't you believe a word of it—I know, 'cause I was there."

About that point I decided I should record the events of the past few days. So I got out my journal and began to write. Then the journal joined everything else in the trunk; I didn't expect anything important or noteworthy to happen until my dad came to get me. Then maybe I'd shock him with my awesome faux leather costume. I'd managed to acquire faux leather jacket (black), miniskirt (red), and boots (also black).

"Need." I swirled around the room, wielding my red lightsaber, in time to the song. I knew a little bit about fencing. I'd learnt some saber last Saturday.

I paused the music and went to Ham Center to check and see if there was anything decent to eat. There wasn't. But there was some cool new stuff at the free table. That's where people put all their old junk they don't want anymore, so other people can come take it. I ended up taking a set of computer headphones with a microphone attached. There was a hole in one of the pads for the ears, but otherwise they seemed in good shape.

It was only after I was in second court that I realized 226 wasn't my room anymore. "Must remember, I no longer live there," I muttered to myself.

Once I managed to find my new room again, I turned on the music. Then I had to take a potty break. After that I ignored the music for a while, opting instead to study Greek, as there was a test scheduled for the next day.

Just as I got through my stack of notecards, "Bad Magic Day" came on. I never would have attempted what I did next if I hadn't remembered the power I'd felt earlier, listening to "Magic's Price." "Clear the mind, center in, feel the power deep within. Clear your mind of fear and doubt, feel the power reaching out." So I did that. And I felt it. Only I wasn't going to waste this cool feeling on lifting some stupid cup. What could I do that would be impressive? What was the most impressive spell I knew?

A Gate. I could make a Gate.

So I did. I imagined a Companion grazing in a field, eyes bright blue and sparkling with intelligence. I spun webs of power out from myself, creating a Gate in the middle of the room. The door was like five feet away from me—I really should have used that. But I didn't. I decided to be idiotic and build a Gate in thin air.

To my astonishment, the Gate began to form.

I panicked. I realized then what I should have known from the beginning: I didn't want to go to Valdemar. I wanted to go home. But first I wanted to pass my midterms. So I tried to shut it off. But it wouldn't turn off. I'd made the commitment, and I had to carry through. I'd passed the point of no return. The Gate now had a life of its own, and it sucked from me energy and life-force.

It formed just on the other side of my trunk. It pulsed once, then stabilized. I fell toward it like a gravity well.

No! This isn't supposed to happen!

And it wasn't supposed to happen. Gates were just supposed to be there—sucking energy, yes, but not sucking me toward it like a thrice-forsaken black hole.

As I tripped over the open trunk, I grabbed for it, hoping its weight would help stabilize me. Instead I just dragged it along with me into the deep black void. Darkness surrounded me in an instant of disorientation, then solid ground was beneath me as I lay sprawled across the trunk, its clasp digging into my midriff and my personal effects strewn across the brilliantly green grass. I picked myself up with a stream of curses, lapsing into French and Khéósin—that's the language I made up—when I ran out of English, and finishing with "Futue te ipsum et caballum tuum," which is Latin. I won't translate it here.

Jeans straightened and dirt brushed off, I lifted my head. There, before me, was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Horse-shaped, with a gleaming white flank like a wonderland of snow and eyes like sapphires, or the sky on a clear summer's day. A Companion.

Me, I've never been overly fond of horses. Oh, I can ride them just fine. But I'm not too keen on animals that are bigger than me but don't necessarily understand that when they bite my hand, or step on my foot, it hurts.

I turned and ran.

:It's alright. I won't hurt you: the Companion assured me.

Okay, so now I was hearing voices. Not necessarily a new experience. But not very welcome either. :Get out of my head, you bloody horse:

:What is your name, magician: asked the Companion, ignoring my polite request.

"Taileffer," I replied aloud, pausing in my flight to turn and bow. "Minstrel and jester to His Majesty by the grace of God, King William of England, crowned this day after his valiant defeat of the traitor Harold, who would seize his throne and declare himself king, after having sworn an oath to William, at that time Duke of Normandy. I was the first to die, which I did proudly, for I died in the name of my Duke."

:What on Velgarth are you babbling on about:

"You asked who I was."

I swear the Companion rolled her eyes. :I asked your name, Taileffer. You answered that question with your first word. There was no need to continue.:

At that point I suppose I should have pointed out that my name really wasn't Taileffer, but I didn't. I was feeling in a contrary mood. Hell, I'd just traveled to an alien planet. In the middle of exam week, no less. If I couldn't get back, I was going to miss my last two exams. Worse, I was going to miss fall break. I wouldn't be able to see my cats, or my friends. And, incidentally, I'd miss seeing my family.

As might be imagined, in order to see the Companion roll her eyes, I had to be looking into said eyes. While I was lost in thought, she met my gaze. Don't ask me how I knew she was female. The inner workings of my mind are not for public display. But as for the eyes, it seems she'd followed me when I was running. Because she was right there, in front of me, her eyes as large as melons.

Suddenly I was drowning in a sea of blue. Those eyes—they weren't eyes, they were probes. And my eyes were the windows to my soul. The Companion looked through my eyes and saw me as a human, all my flaws revealed. Somewhere in there she must have seen something good, though. I can't imagine what. I'd been doing my best to eradicate my streak of heroism. Bloody nuisance. I was a pirate. I didn't have the time to hie off after evil bad guys.

:My name is Lyrna, and I Choose you.:

Please review! I'm just a poor author with no money, no dowry, no family background…. Anyways. I collect things, and reviews are one of them. So make me happy! Or I'll come after you with all my pirate buddies. I know where you live. glowers threateningly Seriously, I live for reviews. I really want to become a real author, and to do that I need feedback. It makes me happy when I receive reviews.