Welladay, it's good to be back. Second chapter here.

:You idiot.: The clear voice cut through his dreamy, half-delirious haze.

Somehow Keighven pushed himself up, his muscles protesting mightily as they creaked into action.

:Thrice a fool,: the voice continued. :First for going away from the only safe haven you knew. Second for running past your endurance without cause. Third for going to sleep – in the snow

Keighven blinked wearily. He could see two white pillars in front of him. Looking up, following them, he came to the chest of a horse and then came face-to-face with a blue-eyed creature.

Oh, he thought, as he stared into the creature's deep blue eyes. Puddles of sapphire.

:I am Gryphon,: the voice said into his head. :You are my Chosen, Keighven. Now get yourself out of the snow and onto my back. If you're not planning on losing limbs to frost burn, we need to get you to a Healer right away.:

Keighven shook his head a little.

:Stand up,: the voice said. :Lean on me.:

Kev reached out a frozen hand and rested it against the white creature's leg. He could feel heat radiating from it. Slowly feeling came back into his hand.

:Stand up,: the voice urged him, and this time he was able to, by pulling on the reins connected to the beast's hackamore.

He knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that this was not a horse, but he had no name for what it might be.

:I'm a Companion, Keighven,: it said gently.

Companion.

He pulled himself upright, mostly using the reins connected to the hackamore as an antidote against his deadweight body.

:I don't think you'll be able to mount like this,: he heard, :so…:

The Companion dropped to its knees in front of him.

Dubiously he eyed the saddle. He'd never ridden before.

:That doesn't matter,: the voice cut across. :Just put one leg over my back. Get in the saddle and I'll keep you safe. I promise.:

Keighven tumbled over the saddle. The Companion paused a moment as he settled himself then stood, ignoring Kev's gasp when it lurched to its feet.

:I'm not an 'it', Keighven,: the voice came into his mind. :I'm a 'him'. My name is Gryphon.:

Oh. He felt a twinge of guilt at the assumption that because the Companion wasn't human he wouldn't mind being an it… Apparently he was wrong and it forcefully reminded him of how he'd hated being an it to prospective gladiator buyers.

:Exactly,: Gryphon said into his mind. :Now hold on a bit. I'm about to do some speedy terrain covering.:

Kev took the warning at face value and clutched at the high cantle as Gryphon broke into a swift run. It lasted for maybe a quarter of a candlemark, but even that was enough time for Kev to begin to feel weary again.

When Gryphon stopped, he raised his head and looked around. He was in the middle of a small village, it looked like. He wondered what they were doing there.

:A Healer is coming,: Gryphon reported. :She's a master of her craft, so be sure to listen to her. I'll be in the stables.:

It didn't take more than half a moment between when Gryphon finished 'speaking' and when the Healer arrived. She looked very, very young to be 'a master' at anything, but not trusting her simply didn't occur to Kev as she pulled him down from the saddle and supported him into the warm inside of one of the village houses.

Inside it was sparsely furnished.

"Sit down," the young Healer ordered, pushing Kev gently towards a chair. "You're frozen almost full-through. Whatever you were doing could not have been important enough to freeze yourself over."

As she tsked over his irrational behavior, she bustle about, taking things out of cabinets and mixing them, setting a kettle on to boil. When the water did, she poured it in a mug along with whatever it was she'd mixed. She gave that to him and then stood back as he drunk it. The concoction wasn't foul tasting at all. Quite the contrary – it was rather sweet with a slight bitter undertone.

He gulped it down eagerly, ignoring the strange looks the Healer was favoring him with. Finally, when he had finished off the contents and set the mug down, she asked, "where are you from?" The way she said it made him think she felt she should know.

"South," he answered shortly. "Disputed territories."

She nodded slightly but she was still frowning a little bit. "What were you doing there?"

"I lived there," he answered, wondering why she sounded a bit preoccupied. Here eyes went wide but for some reason she didn't seem to be looking at him…

Then she did look at him. Her gold-hazel eyes locked with his steely grey ones. "You," she said, voice laden with weariness, and something like tired irony, "are quite a mess."

Keighven looked down at himself. He looked fine! It wasn't as if he'd picked up mud while he was running or riding, and even if he felt incredibly worn, he was sure he didn't look it.

"You're made quite a mess of your body," she continued, raising an eyebrow at him. "Exercise is good for you, mind, but there is a point where you start killing yourself instead of building."

What? He hadn't known that.

"Don't look so surprised," she advised. She paused for a moment. "I never did get your name."

"Keighven," he supplied.

She nodded. "I'm Marti. What's your Companion's name?"

Companion? For a spit second, Kev's exhaustion-cold fogged mind blanked. Then a name came to him. "Gryphon," he croaked out. "His name's Gryphon."

:So you remembered,: came a sardonic little reply in the back of his head.

"He certainly is lovely," Marti said, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "I trained at the Healer's Collegium in Haven," she explained in response to his puzzled look. "I saw a lot of Companions around. I really wanted to be Chosen, but that was before I heard the job description and got to see some of what front-line work does to people. Then I was happy that I was lacking in some way. Sometimes I still wish though…" She trailed off, looking out the window. It was snowing again.

"You should be warm enough by now," she decided aloud.

Her hand went to his shoulder. It burned. The sensation gradually eased though, and she had that peculiar looking-through set to her eyes again. He felt his body temperature rising to normal and the chilled feeling of his numb body subsided along with his exhaustion.

When Marti pulled back, she was grinning at him, but she looked partly drained.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She looked confused for a moment then nodded. "I'm fine – it's just that Healing takes energy to do. Usually the energy comes from a person's reserves, but you my friend," she cast a stern glance at him, "have exhausted those."

She laughed. "This isn't true exhaustion for me, either. Nothing a little sleep won't cure, eventually." She pulled a chair up and sat down.

"So, what exactly were you doing out in the snow without a shirt on?" From the tone of her question, Kev easily deduced that she thought he had been with someone else.

"Running," he answered stiffly.

She looked mildly surprised. "You don't get cold when you're running?"

He shook his head. "There was a little boy who was freezing – he needed something to keep himself warm. I could run to keep my body at a suitable temperature whereas he could not. I gave it to him."

Marti nodded. "Yet another reason I wasn't Chosen," she remarked cryptically. "I'm nowhere near selfless enough to do something so incredibly stupid."

She looked out the window and it was silent a long time before she asked, "Are you staying the night then?"

Keighven opened up his mouth to say that he didn't know when Gryphon said, :Tell her we are. It's too cold out for me right now and it's still snowing. So, yes, we will stay the night.:

Armed with the knowledge, Keighven answered in the affirmative and was pleased when Marti smiled.

"I'll have to make up a bed for you then, unless you want to sleep in the infirmary," she said apologetically, rising.

"It doesn't matter," Keighven said. "I don't mind sleeping in the infirmary."

Marti paused. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Most certainly yes," he replied.

"Well, that certainly makes things easier," she said, plopping back down into the chair. She crossed her legs and studied him for a minute.

"Tell me something," she asked – or demanded.

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know…Something about yourself." She sounded as eager as a child begging for a bedtime story.

"Well," Kev began, trying to think of something suitably impressive and exotic that didn't have anything to do with his career as a gladiator.

"I had three brothers," he finally told her.

"What are their names?" she asked.

"Devon – he was the oldest. Then there was me, and after me came the twins, Braedon and Alex."

"How much older is Devon?"

"He would be…" Keighven paused to think. If Devon had been five when he was born – "He would be twenty four."

Marti made a face. "Why do you keep saying 'were' and 'would have been'?" she inquired. "Are they dead?"

Keighven chuckled. So tactless. "No, they're not dead," he said. "AT least, the last time I saw them, they weren't dead. But that was many years ago, and now I have no idea where they are in the world and what they're doing."

Marti nodded. "So," she asked, after a suitable moment of silence had passed, "What do you want to know about me?"

Kev started a little. "Um—" he said brilliantly.

:Ask her about her age, or Healer's Collegium,: Gryphon prompted.

"How old are you?" Kev asked, taking the Companion's advice.

Marti smiled. "Thirteen in two days," she answered.

Kev felt like he should be making a big deal out of it from the way she said it. Never mind that boys as young as eight fought in the arena. If Gryphon found this girl child's age and scholarship to be worth mentioning, it had to be of some not.

:Quite true,: came the laughter-tinged reply in his mind. :But seriously, Keighven, most Healers don't get out of the Collegium until they're eighteen or better. Marti has such a powerful Healing Gift that she was taken in for training at six and it took her four years to graduate. Most aren't accepted until their fourteenth year, and anyone taken earlier still doesn't earn their Greens until much later.:

That suitably impressed even Keighven.

"Gryphon says you're something terribly special," he commented.

Marti practically glowed. "Really?"

Now that he knew how young she was, it was easy to see her age in how excited she became over that simple compliment.

"Really," he assured her.

Things went on in the same vein for some time – long enough at least for Keighven to begin to suitably appreciate her mature prospective.

Among other things, he found out that she tended the people of the village and the ones nearby as well. There was another Healer who also helped, but he had a weak Healing Gift himself and served more often as the herbalist and adult mentor.

Having Marti here, he inferred, probably freed up some Healers who might be needed elsewhere. The border here was between unclaimed territory and Valdemar, so there weren't really any true threats. It was safe enough to have Marti here by her relative lonesome.

And the villagers looked out for her too. They wouldn't leave her to fend for herself. In fact, if she hadn't insisted on following general protocol and living in the House of Healing, then she probably would have taken up residence in the home of one of the old mothers in the town.

When Keighven began to be tired, Marti noticed and hushed herself up. "You should probably be going to sleep now," she said, slipping back into mini-adult mode.

"I think you are correct in that assessment," Keighven conceded, a bit of desperate weariness creeping into his voice despite his intentions to cloak it. He smiled ruefully. "I'm farther gone than I thought."

Marti nodded. "I figured you would be," she said cryptically, then led him to the infirmary where he laid down and easily fell asleep nearly as soon as she left.

About midway through the night, he woke up and cautiously extended the curious mental 'ear' that had appeared when Gryphon did.

:Awake?: Gryphon's mind voice was alert and cheerful – far too awake for the hour.

"Yes," Keighven whispered into the silence, feeling like a bit of a fool talking to thin air.

:Don't say the words – just think them,: Gryphon said gently. :I'll hear you.:

:And if I didn't wish my thoughts to be heard?: Kev inquired.

:That comes with learning how to shield,: the Companion replied tartly. :For now though, there are a couple of things we need to figure out.:

:Such as?:

:First off,: Gryphon began, his mental voice carrying with it dead seriousness, :I've been picking up small hints of the – episode – that drove you away from the fighter's place. I know you saw a Herald there – :

Reflexively, Kev winced at the word. He'd been taught to flee at that, but somehow it just didn't fit, like so many other things.

:Yes,: he replied, cautious. :Why is that important?:

:Justyn and Fedor disappeared down there. It was their job to clean out a rat's nest of bandits, and we figured that there would be villagers to help out – that sort of thing.: There was a worried note in his voice. :But no one's heard from either one of them since they left.:

:And you want to know if I know anything about it, right?: Keighven groaned cynically.

:Well, yes.: Gryphon sounded nearly apologetic about it.

;He wasn't killed, if that's what you mea,: Kev said, trying to remember. :Unless they got him after I'd left. Mostly everyone was just running away, trying not to get caught. No one was terribly fond of Heralds, but the only true fighters took off – none of them would have stayed to battle a Herald

:Hmn.: The Companion sounded thoughtful. :None of the overlords were trained by way of the sword?:

:Not to my knowledge. I mean, sure, Lord Bonden knew enough to suitably impress his younger fighters, but he's the only one I can think of.:

:Well that certainly put a new complexion on things,: Gryphon mused.

:Why?:

:Because of none of those left were any hand with a sword, Justyn could have easily dispatched them. He's one of the most brilliant swordsmen. He isn't dead. One of us would know, and if there weren't any real fighters left, then it's highly unlikely that he'd have been taken hostage.:

:Oh,: was all Keighven could think to say.

:Oh, indeed,: Gryphon echoed. :Justyn's not an amazing mindspeaker, but with Fedor to boost him, he should have been able to reach me at least. And I haven't heard anything. Kyrith is near mad with worry.:

:Kyrith?:

:Companion to Randall, the Monarch's Own Herald,: Gryphon replied in a preoccupied way.

:Why would – Kyrith – be mad with worry?: Keighven pressed. He wasn't sure if Kyrith was male or female, so he refrained from assigning a gender, waiting for Gryphon to reveal it.

:I keep forgetting you don't understand most of this,: the Companion said, his mind voice soft. :Kyrith is bonded to Randall, but Randall and Justyn are brothers and there's a possibility that…: He paused as if thinking of the best way to word it. Finally, he finished, just saying, :Kyrith doesn't want to lose Justyn.:

It didn't seem enough, somehow, but Gryphon refused to assuage Keighven's curiosity so instead of continuing to pry, he changed the topic.

:Where are you taking me? I mean – I assume we do have a destination, correct?:

A light chuckle, overlaid with faint relief greeted his query.

:Yes, we do have a destination. We're going to Haven, to the Heralds' Collegium.:

The word Collegium evoked images of a huge marble fighting arena. Kev shook his head to clear it of the picture.

:No, it won't be like that,: Gryphon assured him. :For one thing, all the fighting training happens in the sale. For another, there are servants, and nobility all of them living together.:

That gave him a pretty picture to imagine.

:What'll it be like?: he asked, curiosity getting the better of him, even though he was beginning to feel tired again.

:Well,: Gryphon said, :the weapon's work should be easy for you. If physical fitness were the only qualification, you'd be passed into Whites the moment they saw you.:

:But?: Keighven prompted.

:But you also need to know people,: Gryphon continued. :You'll have to take classes – reading, writing. I know you're passable at both, but if we can expand your abilities, we will. You'll take Religions, study trade routes, and get training in your Gifts.:

Gryphon seemed ready to continue on in the same vein, but Keighven stopped him.

:What Gift?: he asked, confused.

:You're a mindspeaker of middling ability,: Gryphon said. :You can't expand the power, but you will learn control over that ability. You've got a smattering of Empathy – just enough to cause trouble if it gets out of hand. No Mage-potential, which is a pity, but you're going to be one hell of a Fetcher.:

The best Kev could manage in reaction was :What?:

:Fetching,: Gryphon replied primly. :You'll be able to move things with your mind. Granted, anytime you do, it'll give you a wicked reaction headache, but that can't be helped, and history has shown Fetching to be quite an intriguing Gift. Too bad you don't have Firestarting abilities as well,: he teased.

At least, Kev thought he was teasing. It was a little hard to tell, and he was tired again…

:Go to sleep,: Gryphon advised. :We're leaving early tomorrow and you'll need your rest.:

The presence of Companion withdrew from his mind and he followed Gryphon's excellent advice, easily slipping back into sleep's welcoming embrace…

Author's Note: