Title: Knotted Destiny
By: QT
Edited By: buttons7

Summary: 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

Raoul paced outside the infirmary, thoughts rushing through his mind. Seeing the door open, the big burly man entered the room, stopping at the foot of Lerant's bed. He glared at the boy before strolling up to the boy's side, and pulling him up to eye-level by his shirt. "Lerant, by the Black God's realm, what happened? That boy of yours ran away and put you, as well as the guards along the wall and gate, to sleep!"

Lerant frowned, averting Raoul's gaze. "Kal has that ability, to make people sleep, sir."

"Where is she heading, Lerant?"

"To the middle of the war-" Lerant stopped and frowned, "you said she."

"Lerant, all who use magic leave a trace of it that can be traced back to them. Kal isn't a lad, sir, Kal is a lass. Tell me, Lerant, who is she?"

Hanging his head, he clenched his fists, "Kal's real name is Kalasin, Princess Kalasin of Conté to be exact."

"That's what Duke Baird said. He's worked with the Princess for years, teaching her to use her power, so it's quite understandable that he would recognize her magic right away."

"I tried to go with her, but she wouldn't let me. I know it would be treason, but it's not right to leave her defenseless. She has a sword, which she does not know how to wield."

"I've sent a squad out after her-"

"Have they found her yet?"

Raoul hung his head, "No, not yet."

"Lord Raoul, she'll die if we don't find her!"

"Scanrans have traveled along the river that separates Tortall from countries to the east. They await to attack Tortall's troops from their back whilst your troops, mage, attack the Tortallans from the front. They'll be powerless against men and immortals alike.

"Very good, Uusoae. Are you going to fight with us or stay in the tent, and wait for us to return."

"I will fight if needed, mage. Don't get so confident, for there is still a threat out there that you have been unable to destroy. Keep your eyes open for the girl, and kill her when you see her," said a female voice.

The white-blonde-haired man nodded his head, and exited the tent. A grin crossed his face as he gazed upon his troops. Men waited on horses or the immortals that were called hurroks; a creature with a horse's body, bat-like wings, claws, and fangs.

Walking to the front of his army, he mounted his large, gray warhorse. He then pulled out his sword, and pointed it in front of him. "To war," he cried, before kicking his mount into a gallop.

Kalasin's face brightened at the sight of what lay before her; men clad in armor, a shield in one hand, a spear or sword in the other. Their helmets shone brightly in the morning sun, and the light reflected off of the armor as multiple soldiers fidgeted. 'They're waiting for the enemy,' the girl realized. 'This is where I belong'.

About to urge her mare forward, she stopped, staring into the cold eyes of a blonde-haired stormwing. The stench that came from the immortal made her stomach roll in protest, wanting to toss up what little contents it had left.

"Remember me, child?" the immortal asked.

"Arianna Sharp-wing, is it not?"

"Very good child, you do remember me. Listen carefully, wielder of the god's sword, for what I am about to tell you may save your life."

"Why would you want to help me?"

"You are in the favor of a god, and we try to stay on the gods' good sides."

"The gods are helpless now. They're trapped in their realm, unable to break free."

"Oh, but they will. The tide can turn easily, either for or against the gods. Now listen up. You must stay away from the immortals you do not recognize. There is one specific immortal, one that resembles a wolf with two tails that can breath fire. Watch your back child, you don't know who you can trust-"

"You must help us! We will not stand a chance!"

"Oh, you will not, but you can try. This is not the stormwings' fight, this is the humans' fight."

Kalasin frowned, watching her take off into the air, soaring higher and higher until she disappeared into the clouds. "Come on, Mavaiya, let us join our people." Making a clicking noise, Kalasin brought her mount to a gallop, nearing the large amount of soldiers that awaited battle. As she neared, the sound of yelling reached her ears; the enemy was close by.

Though she was in the very back, Kalasin could clearly hear someone, a female, giving a speech to the men. "It's Aunt Alanna," she whispered to Mavaiya, her eyes twinkling with glee.

"No matter what comes at you, you will fight! You will fight not just for Tortall or your home, but for the people you love, for yourselves, and for everything you believe in! Don't take pity on a soul, for you will receive none! It is now that you will fulfill your oaths you took at Knighthood. Mithros and Goddess bless you all!"

Cheers rang out into the air, following the Lioness' words. 'I want to be at the front of the line, I must be at the front,' Kalasin thought as she frowned at the soldiers in front of her. "Excuse me," she said loudly, using her horse to push past the men on foot. Glares were shot at her as others around her groaned. Kalasin returned the glares, and continued forward, stopping only once she was at the rear of the mounted soldiers.

Everyone went quiet as the enemy approached, clad in armor that seemed to ripple, and never remain the same color or shape. Their swords, long and curved, glistened in the sunlight. Snarls from immortals rose into the air, followed by the war cry of the enemy.

Using the moment of silence, Kalasin pushed her and Mavaiya past the mounted riders until she stood in the front-most line. Soldiers all around her stared, many whispering for her to leave.

"This is no place for a lad like yourself," the man on her left said, "get out of here."

Kalasin just smiled and withdrew her sword, receiving weary glances from the soldiers.

"Lad, I'm telling you, get out of here! You have no armor, and you're too puny to wield a sword."

"Sir, I will not turn back. I've come too far to do so, and I won't leave my people. My place is right here beside them, beside you all. I'm fighting for what I believe in, fighting for my kingdom's freedom."

"Lad, you're talking nonsense!"

Lerant and Raoul exchanged glances when a soldier with tousled black hair and blazing azure eyes walked through the gates of Mastiff. Both men bowed deeply, "My Prince," they said in unison.

"Where is she, Raoul? Where is my sister?"

"Prince Roald, she is not here," replied Raoul coolly.

"Then, Raoul, where is she?"

"We do not know, my Prince."

"She's heading south, where the battle is at its thickest," said Lerant.

"What is your name?"

"Lerant, my Lord."

"Lerant, walk with me," Roald said as he headed towards the stable.

"Roald, what do you think you're doing?" cried Raoul.

"Going after my sister-"

"Don't be stupid, Roald. We can't risk you getting killed in battle as well."

"Raoul, Kalasin needs me."

Turning to a nearby soldier, Raoul frowned. "Round up the soldiers of the Own," he said loudly and clearly, "we're accompanying his Highness to battle."

The red-eyed mage held up a pale, bony hand, halting his followers. Gazing at the army on the opposite side of the river, the mage's eyes rested upon a blue-eyed, black-haired rider. A wolfish grin crossed his lips when blue eyes met his own.

"Kalasin," he cried out, "you're mine! Attack!"

Cries of his soldiers rang out into the air as the famed Lioness let out a war cry before charging the enemy. The mage followed suit, charging into the river, his sword swinging around him as arrows from either side flew past him.

Kalasin gazed at the man she had been talking to, "I don't talk nonsense, sir, and I am not a lad. I'm a lass." With that, she held her sword up, and put Mavaiya into a full run. An arrow flew by her, grazing her cheek. Another arrow flew by, a grunt from someone behind her becoming audible.

The girl's thoughts traveled away from the battle to the shadow growing in the back of her mind. 'He's here, I can feel his presence, and he knows I'm here. He knows who I am, and what I look like-' Her thoughts were interrupted by a woman's scream. A red bolt of lighting shot out from a tall, lanky man with white-blonde hair and red eyes, penetrating the Lioness' shoulder.

"No! Alanna!" the girl cried out, her blood boiling with fury.

Soldiers nearby the Lady Knight took her out of harm's way, and everything after that was a blur to Kalasin. Soldiers came at the girl, their swords raised, ready to swing down upon her. Most met their death due to Mavaiya's hooves striking their middle, and crushing their insides, others met Kalasin's blade.

The girl cried out when a spear shot through the air, lodging itself in the mare's neck. The horse whinnied a cry, rearing up, and dropping her rider. Arrows pelted the animal's body before the horse fell to the ground, her once white fur now stained with blood that belonged to her as well as others. "No! Mavaiya!" screamed Kalasin, crawling over to the dying mare.

Something flashed above Kalasin, the sound of metal on metal rang loud in her ears. Looking up through watering blue eyes, the girl gazed at the soldier she had stood by in line, the soldier who had told her to turn back. He shot a grin her way as his sword entered the unguarded flesh of an enemy soldier. Blood from the enemy's wound speckled Kalasin's face when the man pulled out his sword.

'This is what I wanted,' thought the Princess grimly, 'to be able to fight a war like everyone else, but look at me. I've not done much good. I've only caused death to those around me, whether they're friend or foe.'

Soldiers mounted on horses, clad in armor fled the fort. Roald, Raoul, and Lerant led the soldiers onward, pushing their horses to continue at a fast pace. 'At this pace, we'll be at the battlegrounds by nightfall,' thought Lerant, 'please Kalasin, be safe'.