A/N: Thanks a bunch to all reviews of the last chapter! You guys all really helped a lot! So here is the next chapter, but first:
 Glaciours- Hmm... I'm not sure exactly if I meant what you're thinking of. I can't even remember what I was referring to when I said angst... memory leaking down drain Anyway- go ninjas! I have actually seen a movie where there is a random ninja. A purple ninja! Whoop!
mugglepirate- One word: yup! XD
kytana- Werewolves are TOTALLY cool! I try and be different. XD.
Stormy Phoenix- Thank you- I know this story is very thought oriented... Problem is I'm writing in someone else's setting and that always makes me careful when it comes to settings and descriptions. Except for the Companion's Field. That's just fun. hugs the Valdemar Companion Tis very useful but on occasion not useful enough. I often have to go back to Arrows of the Queen to get basic descriptions of the Collegiums and stuff.
Kathleen G. McCrory- Yup, Raul isn't a full grown Companion! I probably could have emphasized it more earlier. (I use filly to describe her a lot though). That's one of the reasons she's gets a lot of shit and stuff from the other Companions...
Eric Thorsen- I think time jumps will work... I have trouble making time flow even when there AREN'T years that need to pass.

"And lastly… your room," Christopher said and stopped at the end of a hallway that had many doors, each with a name plate on it, "The Dean tells me we can offer you a room of your own but… we could also find someone who'd be willing to share with you if you don't want to be alone. Or you could go to the dormitories of the Blues. It's up to you."

"Uh," Faolan said and looked up at Christopher. She'd been sleeping in a bed by herself for a long while, but Raul had always been there. It would be nice to share a bedroom, live with other people… But she needed private space. She needed a place that she could lock the door on and turn into a wolf, where no one would see or question her absence.

"I'd like my own room," she said slowly and the nodded, "If that's okay."

"Sure is," Christopher Alaska nodded and then led her down the hall, "This is the girl's side, us boys sleep over there."

He waved his arm presumably at rooms through the walls in the direction he waved and Faolan nodded, not too interested. What was the room of a Heraldic trainee like? She hadn't known the trainees all got their own rooms- it seemed almost too luxurious! But Raul hadn't seemed to worry about where Faolan had changed so Raul must have assumed she'd get her own room all along.

"All right," Chris nodded as they stopped before an unlabeled door, "This room is yours. A label with your name will be placed there soon. Clothes your size will be brought up at some point, along with shoes. Like I said before, you'll be following me around until things are worked out for you. You're the youngest trainee ever, did you know?"

"I am?" Faolan asked, looking curious, even though she already knew she was the youngest person ever to be Chosen.

"Sure are," Christopher nodded and then pushed open the door to let Faolan take a look around, "Your Companion is probably the youngest Companion to Choose too, from what I've heard."

"Wow," Faolan said, not hearing the trainee's last words, and this time she wasn't saying what she should say, she was really amazed. After sleeping in a Way station for so long this room looked like the sleeping place of the King and Queen! She stepped inside- the floors were still wood, and poked at the soft and large bed. There was a dresser as well, and a desk, both looking used and a bit battered, but still… it was wonderful!

"Cool, huh?" Chris asked- he had come in behind her, "I was surprised too. My father is a merchant so I lived in relative wealth but I hadn't expected the Heralds to provide for their trainees so well."

"I like it," Faolan announced, twirling around and letting the room blur together.

"Good. We have about half an hour before my classes start, so I'd suggest taking a bath. You can change into these for now. Inside the bathroom is a laundry shoot, and you can put your old clothes down there, they'll be returned to you later if you want them back," Christopher said. In his arms were the smallest set of trainee grays the Palace had in their possession. They were sized for a small and skinny ten year old, but the seamstress had assured Faolan that once the sleeves and legs were rolled up they'd fit fine. Faolan wasn't so sure.

Christopher led her to the bathrooms and ushered her in, after explaining how the baths worked in case no one else was in there, while they stood outside the door. He said if she finished and he wasn't back, to wait there and then she pushed open the door, a humid air of wetness and moisture greeting her.

The room was large, with several tubs and hot water available for all of them. There was only one other person in the room, a woman that was undoubtedly no longer a trainee, and she was submerged in her tub with her eyes closed. Faolan doubted she wanted to be disturbed so, clutching her clean clothes, moved over to take a towel and began pumping water into a tub.

"Faolan…" a slow, lazy voice said and Faolan jumped before realizing it was the woman Herald, "That's a pretty name. Mine is Rathmir."

"Yours is pretty as well," Faolan answered, still pumping water and staring at the woman who appeared to be asleep. A single droplet of water slid down the woman's bare arm and dropped from her a finger, landing inaudibly on the floor.

"I know Raul," she added a moment later, and her eyes flickered open, revealing eyes that were almost teal in color, "She is the daughter of my Companion."

"Really?" Faolan's interested was piqued and she paused in her water pumping.

"Yes," the Herald nodded and then picked up her head from where it had rested against the edge of the tub and she returned Faolan's gaze. Steam seemed to rise from her wet hair.

Does everyone know who I am? Faolan wondered, and wished she could see Raul once more, know how she was handling the situation. She couldn't feel Raul's mind nearby, but she suspected that had to do with a weakness in her Gift, and not with location.

"Raul is young to be Choosing, as you are young to be Chosen," Rathmir said and lifted up arms that looked delicate to squeeze water from her hair, "Conlan has worried about her."

"Is Conlan your Companion?" Faolan inquired, peering into her tub and deeming it to have enough water.

"He is," she nodded and then reached for a towel that sat on the floor beside her tub and pulled it up around herself as she stood.

"Raul never spoke much about her parents," Faolan said carefully, pulling off her shirt, glad to be rid of the encumbering garment.

"Companions usually don't," Rathmir said with a smile, stepping from the tub and then toweling herself dry.

As Faolan discarded the rest of her clothing and climbed into the tub and into hot water Rathmir added, "Do you have parents somewhere, Faolan? It surprises me that a Companion would take one as young as you from her parents…"

Unless she were an orphan, Faolan finished, surprised at the mix of emotions that bubbled up at that question and she preoccupied herself in rubbing soap onto a hand towel before answering.

"I don't have parents," she finally said, deciding that would be easier than trying to explain in a four year old's words why she would much rather be here than with her parents in the first place.

"In that case, I hope you find a family here with the Heralds," Rathmir said, and once she had donned Herald whites she walked over to Faolan's tub and kneeling down on the stone.

"It's so warm," Faolan mused as she sat in the water, running her fingers through it, "I haven't had warm water in ages."

"Hot baths were the one thing I missed when I went on circuit," Rathmir said with a wistful sigh, "I don't go anymore- I've been reassigned as a teacher here at the Collegium and I must say I think it suits me better. Do you want me to wash your hair for you?"

Faolan paused in washing herself to looked up at the woman, her eyes searching the Herald's face, momentarily confused, and then she nodded, agreeing. Rathmir leaned over and picked up the bar of soap, rubbing her over her hands and then wetting Faolan's hair and running the soap through it.

"Do you think I'll really become a Herald someday?" Faolan asked, realizing she had forgotten how wonderful it was for someone else to wash your hair- like being tickled, it doesn't tickle if you do it yourself. Rathmir's strong fingers working through Faolan's hair and she could feel the dirt coming out.

"Yes," Rathmir answered and she sounded sincere as she met Faolan's eyes, "A Companion never Chooses wrong, no matter how old they are. Even though its different, and it may be hard for you, being so young, I believe there is a reason you are here, a reason that you needed to be here. Usually Companions don't Choose a person until they are old enough that they have pretty much settled into themselves, so it surprised me when I first heard about Raul's Choice. But upon meeting you Faolan, I no longer doubt her. You are definitely something else. I hope I will get the chance to speak with you more, but because your hair is clean, I must be off."

And Rathmir stood and left, without giving Fao and chance to say thank you, leaving her alone in the warm room, feeling slightly unsettled. Was that Herald particularly perceptive or was she not acting her age well enough? She couldn't think of anything she'd said that a four year old wouldn't have but maybe it wasn't in the words. She sighed and leaned back into the water, letting it come just to her eyes and no farther. She looked four, and that was what really mattered. People had a tendency to believe in what they saw and no matter how odd of a four year old she may be, people would still think of her as a four year old.

With a sigh she ducked her head under water once more, massaging the dirt and grime from it and wondering if she could get it cut again- she preferred short hair to long. Upon sitting up she realized the bathwater was quite brown and, wrinkling her nose, she pulled the plug and stepped out, quickly toweling herself dry and pulling on the trainee grays. The breeches absolutely refused to stay up and it didn't help that she had to roll them up about ten times to get them to be the right length- and the tunic swamped her, but despite this she felt the previous owner must have been a small ten year old. Finally she returned to her old clothing and pulled out a worn belt from the pile of dirty clothing and used that to hold up her breeches. Shoes were still in short order, so she came out of the bathroom barefoot.

Christopher Alaska was already there waiting for her and she saw a grin flicker momentarily across his face at the sight of her and she glowered back at him. His hair, still damp, didn't stick up quite as much but looked unnaturally flat. Faolan wondered absently if it would pop back up on its own once it dried, like grass.

"Don't worry Faolan," Alaska said, turning to lead her down the hallway, "You'll get stuff that fits right soon- and some shoes."

"I hate shoes," Faolan muttered and to her surprise he laughed.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Well my first class is History. If it gets too boring there's some extra birch bark for scrap notes and stuff that you can doodle on if you want."

"I'm sure I'll find ways to keep myself entertained," Faolan answered, taking a few running steps to keep up with the longer legged boy.

"You know what? I believe you," Alaska said with a smile and pushed open a door, revealing a small classroom with ten or so desks. Standing at the front was an old Herald, much too old to be going on circuit and looking at some maps he'd hung on the board.

"Herald Pasternack?" Christopher inquired and the man looked up, his eyes immediately alighting on Faolan, and a smile crept across his old features.

"And the oldest Herald meets the youngest," he said and stepped over to them to kneel down before Faolan and offer his hand. Faolan took it uneasily and shook it.

"She's been assigned to me for now, until things get worked out, so she's following me through all my classes," Alaska explained and Herald Pasternack nodded.

"As long as you don't interrupt the class," he said genially and Faolan nodded, "You may sit in an empty desk, or where ever you like."

Once more Faolan nodded and Alaska took a seat near the front. No one else had arrived yet, so Faolan sat down against the opposite wall under the window and only a desk away from Christopher. Peering up at the maps she realized they were sections of Valdemar, particularly the ones where Valdemar and Karse shared a border.

They're so familiar, Faolan thought and suddenly images flashed before her eyes.

"Here, here and here," the Captain said, pointed decisively at a few key sections. The maps were old and quite used and extra writing was scribbled all over them. They stood in a tent, lit by oil lamps and rather dim. Around the table stood four other scouts, all looking worn and worried, and I felt the same. The war wasn't going well, but unlike others this wasn't one of large wars. Neither side had gained or lost much, but it was wearing down on both. Yet recently, things had been changing. Scouts sent out were not coming back, and those that were, weren't always alive. This was not a war of large battles, it was a guerrilla war, and the enemy was well practiced, and the territory was wild enough that even when on Valdemar ground it didn't give their side an advantage.

"There have been more or less continual raids around this pass, and that's where we're focusing our actions. It's our job to go in and find out what we're up against before calling in the soldiers," at this he paused and looked up. Standing in the corner was a man dressed in white, watching over their shoulders with keen green eyes that had aged greatly in the last year.

The Herald nodded and gave an encouraging smile and the Captain continued speaking, "Herald Lauren will continue to act as our messenger, relaying what we find to the main army, although with our numbers getting low…"

"I can do scout duty," the Herald said, his voice low and raspy, "I'm here to help, and if helping means cleaning latrines day and night I can do it."

I hid a smile- it was a long time since I'd had the chance to work with a Herald and they really were something. They seemed to have a well of energy to draw on that was inhuman, and one could always be counted on. However, I knew the Captain wouldn't misuse him, and the two often spent long hours alone, working out plans and discussing the enemy, but the Herald never tried to usurp the Captain's position, and stayed content to advise on the side. It made me wonder what it really took to be a Herald.

"Oy," Alaska poked Faolan and she blinked, staring at him for a moment before realizing her memories had been appearing up once more. Because of the maps.

A few more students had meandered into the room and it was almost full. Shy, cautious glances were being shot in her direction and Faolan smiled carefully at those who's gazes she caught. But then the bell rang and the attention was focused upon the Herald up front.

"Although this is a History class," Herald Pasternack began, "It is important also to learn how to implement that knowledge of the past. So today, we discuss the present. As you know, we have been at war with Karse for six years. Most of you probably haven't seen too much evidence of that war yet, because as wars go I wouldn't call it large. But in some ways, the war is touching all of us. Roads are being left to become rutted and holed and overgrown. Trade is lessening, as the economy focuses on the war, and most of us know at least one person who is away at war. Today, we will discuss the battlefront."

Faolan listened, fascinated by what she was hearing. This was exactly what she needed to know- what had happened since her last life! She must have died in the war, that was clear from the memories of her most recent life, but so far how she had died hadn't revealed itself to her and Faolan didn't really want to know, and that lack of interest was probably one of the things keeping it in the shadows.

"Does anyone know what kind of a war we are fighting?" the Herald inquired. A few hands cautiously raised into the air.

"A slow one?" a girl answered and Pasternack nodded and said, "Yes, but not what I'm looking for…"

Guerrilla, Faolan thought, thinking of her memory.

"Guerrilla?" a different boy volunteered.

Herald Pasternack grinned in delight and said, "Exactly. Yes. This is a guerilla war. This is because the enemy does not meet us in open battle, instead sticking to sabotage and small ambushes. If they attack in larger numbers it is at night. And because you can only fight a guerrilla enemy with similar tactics, thus are we fighting back. You will all undoubtedly take classes in this kind of warfare because the majority of you, and I hate to say this, will end up on the battlefront, leading and directing."

The class went on and Faolan was never bored, despite Christopher's warning. In fact, she was quite delighted with the way things turned out and she prayed that when things were sorted out she'd be allowed to take classes, if not ones this advanced at least ones where she was learning. She hoped Raul would enjoy the return to Haven as much as she was.