Title: Knotted Destiny
By: QT
Edited By: buttons7

Summery: A new era is arising as darkness sets over the vast kingdom of Tortall. People are slain ruthlessly, cities are destroyed, people's hope diminishes rapidly. The only one who can turn the tide and return things to a balance is an unknown and unexpected hero.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, however, I do own this plot.

"..." Talking
'...' Thinking
blah Dreaming

"Yes, you will make fine children. If I'm lucky, you'll even have one of my kind, and I hear you're a healer. Do you know what that could do for us if we had those types of powers!" asked Graystreak dreamily.

Kalasin felt herself trembling as the centaur grew nearer still. The look in his eyes when he gazed at her made her stomach churn. His orbs were filled with lust, and that was all. He didn't care about her, he just cared about his clan and reproducing.

Graystreak leaned forward and brushed his chapped lips across Kalasin's forehead, whispering nonsense about how lovely she looked, whether or not her hair was cropped short and she wore men's clothing. Brushing his lips against her soft skin, nearing her mouth, he paused when someone cleared their throat behind him. Groaning, he pushed away from Kalasin and looked into deep brown eyes. "What is it?"

"Master Graystreak, a few of our lookouts have disappeared and we caught one hurrok," the male from the previous night replied.

Sighing, Graystreak backed away from Kalasin and nodded to the other centaur before exiting. As he left the room, he gasped in horror as to the sight that lay before him. Bodies of both men and immortals lay dispersed upon soiled ground. A scream caught the centaur's attention, and turning towards the noise he witnessed arrows flying into the flesh of the female immortal, one of his kin.

Blood pooled out of her body as she fell to her knees still screaming in agony. Pulling out a sword from the belt that hung at his waist, he trotted over to the female and ended her pain with one quick movement. His blood boiled as he saw a few more of his kind fighting off raiders and immortals alike. His body went numb as he charged the oncoming enemy, his body and mind not recognizing that he was being pelted with arrows. All he could think about was chopping those filthy two-legers in half.

The brown-haired immortal gazed at Kalasin, hiding his emotions from her as he walked towards her, ignoring her look of panic and fear. Holding out his hand to her, he let a smile settle upon his pink lips, "We must get you out of here, girl, you and your horse. We're under attack and greatly outnumbered so there's no hope for survival, well, not for me at least, but for you there still lies hope. I wish you to take that gown as a token of my appreciation for your service to me. You didn't have to heal me, yet you did when I treated you poorly." Lowering his head, he clenched his fists, "I won't make that mistake again. Now, come, you must leave."

Kalasin was taken aback by this new show of emotion, "What about you? Will you leave too?"

The centaur shook his head and smiled, gazing into her blue orbs, "No. I will stay and fight and die by my kin's side."

"You can't fight alone! You mustn't!"

"Girl, you have courage, but you have no brains, so forgive me for this."

Without further warning, the immortal reared up and struck Kalasin on her collarbone, inflicting enough pain for her to faint. Carefully, he picked her up and set her onto his back, then grabbed her things. Rushing out of the wood enclosure, he dashed off towards a picket fence where Mavaiya awaited them.

Settling the girl and her things onto the mare, the centaur smacked the horse's rump to send her off down a trail leading south, around the gathering enemy. Watching the white horse disappear, the immortal pulled out his sword and ran as fast and hard as he could towards the enemy while letting out a war cry.

Thrusting himself at the humans before him, the immortal whipped out a long heavy sword and swung it around his body, the blade slicing through unprotected flesh and spraying blood into the creature's face. In front of him, he saw a blue roan body collapse into the mud, a spear through the sensitive area where horse and man flesh combined. Not seeing the tall figure stride up beside him, the centaur gasped as his brown eyes widened. Looking down he saw blood trickling from his chest caused by a dagger that penetrated his body. Soon all he saw was darkness but not before seeing eerily glowing red-yellow eyes.

Red eyes flecked with brown and yellow flashed wildly at a petite figure clad in dirt and bloodstained clothing. A sword that glimmered like the morning sun swung around the figure's head before slicing at the wild-eyed creature. The sword-wielder, dressed like a lad, was really a girl in disguise, realized Kalasin as she squinted to see clearer. The girl had ebon hair like Kalasin herself and piercing blue eyes. 'That is me!' Kalasin thought, wide-eyed at what she was seeing, 'but it can't be. The girl's hair is longer, and even under the clothes you can see a woman's figure.'

The woman tightened her grip on the hilt of the blade and lunged at the wild-eyed being, stumbling and twisting around to have her body perforated by a beam of crimson light with yellow bolts of lightning dancing upon its length. Gasping for air, the woman dropped her weapon to the ground and brought her hands up to the large wound in her chest. With a nauseous expression to her face, the woman closed her blue eyes as her complexion paled.

Kalasin gasped in horror and ran over to the woman's side. Catching the now dead warrior before she fell face-first into the ground, Kalasin laid her aside gently and placed her hands delicately around the wound. Deep inside herself Kalasin searched, easily finding that pool of hot liquid fire. Grabbing armfuls of it at a time she urged it on, sending it through the wound. "No! You cannot die! Not while there is still breath within my body, not while I still possess the gift to heal will anyone else die before me!"

"You!" shrieked a masculine voice that came from behind. "You-I killed you! Why are you not dead! I don't understand this!"

Looking over her shoulder, Kalasin's fiery azure orbs gazed into burning red orbs. Now, instead of a shadow surrounding the eyes, she saw skin, and an actual figure. The haunting eyes belonged to a man who had fair skin and white-blonde hair. His nose was long and thin and his lips were pink and full. He had no visible muscle, but his build was attractive nonetheless, and it rendered his overall appearance almost pretty.

Taking a step forward, the man held out his hand, his finger pointing at Kalasin. As he muttered some words of a spell, Kalasin wasted no time in scrambling away from where she was; she knew very well that when a mage pointed at you, you had to run away or you'd be killed by the bolt that would strike from their finger or hand.

Tightening her grip on the hilt of the fallen's sword, Kalasin ran at her foe, sending a prayer to Mithros for strength and to the Goddess for protection. Raising the sword high above her head, the princess cried out. A bolt of red and yellow magic enveloped her as the blade came crashing down upon the mage who let out a roar of laughter, his eyes penetrating Kalasin's mind, heart, and soul, destroying everything she had. "You will die, Kalasin of Conté, and then I will kill your family and everyone you love, leaving the throne of Tortall to be ruled by me, and I will be the most powerful being in all the kingdoms!" cried a voice that was neither masculine or feminine.

"No!" Kalasin cried out, her deep blue eyes shooting open. A thin sheet of perspiration had formed over her body and was chilling her in the night's breeze. Gazing at the sky overhead, she saw the moon shining brightly. "It, it was just a dream," she breathed, suddenly feeling overly exposed and drained of energy.

Lerant of Eldorne, a standard-bearer and soldier in the King's Own made his way to the river near camp in order to refill his flask. The morning was chilly and a small breeze was blowing as the sun made its way overhead. Walking up to the river's edge, Lerant crouched down and dipped the flask into the water, letting it fill up as he looked around.

"Lerant! Hurry up with the water!" yelled someone from their camp site.

"I'm coming! Give me a minute will you!" he yelled back as he pulled the flask from the river.

Setting the container aside, Lerant dipped his hands into the water and splashed a bit of liquid on his face. As he wiped off, his eyes scanned down the river to either side of him and finally rested on a horse and rider approaching the water. Slowly he moved behind a bush and withdrew his knife, his brown eyes never leaving the rider's figure.

Kalasin, unaware that she was being watched gazed at the river, her eyes glazed over as if she were dreaming. Slowly, she went to dismount the mare, but lost her grip and hit the frigid cold water. Though her mind was racing as fear and panic made their way through her insides, her body refused to respond to her commands. Down she sank as if she were made of stone, the last breaths of air leaving her lungs as her surroundings darkened around her.

Lerant stared at the spot where the rider fell into the water, his sudden cautiousness leaving him. Running to the river's edge, he waded knee-deep into the water, fighting the current that seemed to be picking up and growing stronger.

Kalasin felt herself hit the solid earth at the bottom of the stream and gathered the last bit of strength left in her body. Clenching her fists, the girl slammed her feet against the rocky terrain and pushed off towards the topside of the water.

A hand near Lerant shot up out of the water. As soon as he heard the choked scream that followed, without hesitation, he dove into the icy water and swam towards the river's victim. Only when he grasped Kalasin's hand did he notice a fatal mistake. The river was carrying them swiftly away; he had underestimated the strength of the current.

Swearing, Lerant pulled the girl against his chest as they neared Doom Falls, a waterfall that had jagged, sharp rocks at its base. No one who had ever gone down the fall survived. Lerant prayed to the gods as he held the girl close and clenched his eyes shut, the current still growing in strength as the sound of the waterfall became audible.

Slowly Kalasin opened her blue eyes as she felt her body dropping. Still unaware of what was happening, she gazed at Lerant as their bodies made contact with the water. Kalasin felt the air get knocked from her lungs as her petite body hit sand. Next to her, Lerant who had also gotten the wind knocked out of him, stayed unmoving, blood from his body staining the water.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kalasin grabbed a hold of him and pushed off the ground. Surfacing with the boy, she gasped for air, replenishing her lungs and body with oxygen as the current carried them towards land. Once they were fully out of the river's reach on the shore, Kalasin sat down next to her patient and let her magic spill over him. First she pushed the water from his body and lungs and brought oxygen to them to keep him breathing, then she went on with examining his wounds. When they had fallen and reached the base of the waterfall, Lerant had hit his arm on a rock and cracked a rib. The arm was the worst; the bone had broken in two different areas and cracked in a third. A gash that continued to bleed was deep and nearly hit muscle. The rib was easier to repair, along with the mending of bruises. Once done with her healing, Kalasin's eyes fluttered shut as her body went limp and landed next to Lerant's.

When she awoke, Kalasin found herself covered up with a warm, heavy shirt that smelled of campfire smoke. Sitting up, the girl let the shirt slide to her lap as she gazed about. What she saw was a topless man poking at a small fire. His muscles bulged slightly each time he moved to re-arrange the sticks to keep the fire lasting. His skin was marked with a fading summer's tan and his mass of chocolate brown hair fell into his face periodically.

Standing up slowly, the girl made her way over to the fire where Lerant sat staring into the flames. Holding out the shirt to him, Kalasin's stomach did flips when he looked up at her with his deep brown eyes. Forcing herself to not stare, Kalasin glanced down at her feet when Lerant took his shirt back. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what? Saving you or covering you up?"

"Well, both, I suppose, though I saved you too," retorted the girl who was taken aback by his tone of voice.

A moment of silence passed before Lerant nodded, "It's an even trade, then. I went to save you, and then you did your healing on me which probably saved my life." He smiled, his facial features softening and causing the princess's stomach to do more flips. "You were in the middle of healing me, I think, when I woke up and saw you. Startled me a bit, it did, but I waited until you were done before moving. I found some wood near the edge of the forest over there and made as good a fire as possible. There are no fish around either. I checked after covering you up, since you were shivering."

Kalasin gazed into those dark pools of his, her own azure orbs twinkling. "What's my rescuer's name, if he doesn't mind me asking?"

"Lerant of the King's Own, if it pleases milady."

Frowning, Kalasin looked down and saw the damp shirt she wore clung to her skin, showing off every curve of her body. "And what is milady's name?" asked Lerant, not taking a notice to the upset look on Kalasin's face.

"...Can I trust you Lerant of the King's Own?"

Confused, Lerant nodded, "...Yes..."

Taking a seat next to the boy, Kalasin folded her hands together, "I'm Kalasin."

Smiling, Lerant tossed a stick into the fire, "Named after the princess huh?"

Sighing in relief, Kalasin nodded, "Just please-"

"I won't tell anyone who you are, Princess, but it's getting late so you should sleep."

Dumbfounded, Kalasin opened her mouth to ask how he knew, but Lerant placed a finger over her lips, his eyes holding hers. "Thanks to being in the Own, I've been to Court enough times to recognize you milady, even if you dress in boy's clothes and chop off your hair. You're a Conté through and through and no one will be able to cover that up, trust me, I know what it's like to not be able to get rid of who you are, no matter what. Besides, if anything, your gift for healing gives you away. You have a reputation for being one of the best healers next to milord Duke Baird. Now tell me one thing, Princess Kalasin, why are you doing this?"

"Just Kalasin if you please, Sir Lerant, and I do this because it is my duty. I want to fight beside my people or lead them to battle. My dream was to be a knight but my parents, though they thought it a valiant idea of mine, refused to have my life risked in war."

"You sound like Lady Knight Keladry when you say it is your duty." A smile lingered on his lips momentarily before he took on a serious, commanding air. "Well then, Kalasin, get some sleep and we'll have fun in the morning."

AN: Sorry it took so long to update, I've had a family reunion and a wedding to attend. I hope you like this chapter! I tried making it longer and I got stuck at different points. I know it's not the best one, but I promise, soon, a whole bunch of romance and action will take place (and that's when the rating may change).