"Hey," Faolan said as she quietly slipped into Raleigh's room and closed the door behind her.

The man was sitting up in his bed, reading a book, though now he was looking at Faolan with a smile on his face. He looked stronger than he had last time she had seen him- if that was even possible. Raleigh was such a world away from werewolves and Heralds that it just blew Faolan's mind. Nothing else seemed quite so relevant when she was with him, and just looking at his face she felt it all slipping away. Sure, training Morgan was important, the war was important, but none of it demanded her attention as it had before- it was just there, and what mattered was Raleigh. More important than anything else was Raleigh getting better, marrying Raleigh…

"Hi," he answered, setting down his book and marking his place by folding over the tip of the page he was on before closing it. Librarians must hate him, Faolan thought absently as she came in and sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling the characteristic happy sort of uneasiness she always felt when she first came in and saw him.

"What's this?" Raleigh asked after his book was away, a concerned frown appearing on his face as he reached up a hand to touch her neck just below her ear. Faolan followed his hand and felt a streak of dried blood and a slightly swelled up spot where a gash had scabbed over. She had washed her hands and face before coming to see him, but she must have missed that spot…

"I got into a fight last night," she said, "It was the full moon and… I wasn't the only werewolf in the room. After I left you the other day Raul told me a Herald was bitten, and I've spent the night's with him, trying to help his Change. He has almost no control… just the way I was when I was a pup."

"He… he bit you?" Raleigh looked like he wasn't sure whether or not to be worried, angry, or amused. Faolan smiled.

"Don't worry about it," she told him, taking the hand that still hovered by the gash and squeezing it in her own, then kissed it and held it in her lap, "It was kind of a dominance thing- I think it helped him, actually. I won, if that makes you feel better."

Raleigh laughed, then ran a hand through his shortish hair and shrugged, saying, "I suppose there's no need to be jealous- if we're really lifebonded then you love me as much as I love you. So you're training this new werewolf Herald?"

Faolan nodded, "Though I don't know how I'll get him true control- ahhh… there's so much you don't know about werewolves! Oh well… I suppose you'll learn eventually. True control is why the werewolves fight- so they learn where the line between fighting with anger and true bloodlust is- and never cross it again. And so they learn where that line is in an environment where it won't hurt the pack. I left, came back here, because I accidentally lost total control while in camp, with other werewolves, and only other werewolves and… I did what they fight to prevent."

"How did that happen?" Raleigh asked, peering at her curiously, seemingly intent on just letting her talk. His question was almost more to prompt her to go on than from true curiosity- though he did want to know.

Faolan paused- wondering if she could tell him, "Well… I guess I kind of had a link to you, ever since I first saw you here in a coma when I was five or something and I had this feeling of where you were… And when you woke up it felt like you had left or something… I thought you had finally died and the feelings inside me because of that… kind of imploded. I remember distinctly thinking- and it seemed quite logical at the time- that if you weren't alive then no one deserved to be happy. Or something like that."

Raleigh looked taken aback, and also thoughtful. He paused before saying, "Wow… This true control thing sounds pretty serious. You're supposed to get it on battlefield then- with a typical sort of warrior's bloodlust?"

"Yes," Faolan nodded, looking into his eyes, wondering what else he was thinking about.

"Ah," he said, then inquired, "And you gained this true control because you thought I had died?"

"Well… yes," Faolan answered with a embarrassed sort of smile, "Yes."

"I guess the werewolves had better hope no more of them form lifebonds," Raleigh said with a grin, then said, turning serious, "You know… I have this faint sort of images- dreams I suppose, that I think are from when I was in a coma. Of Carry, and werewolves… But… in light of what I know now… maybe it wasn't dreams."

Faolan stared at him dumbly- did he remember? He remembered their spirit talks and walks and conversations? He was peering at her now, questioningly, unsure, waiting for her to respond.

"I think that is possible," Faolan answered, "Seeing as I dreamed of you often when I was on the front."

"Dreams…" he said softly, looking down, "Would that be why you told me in one of the earlier dreams, that your name wasn't Carry?"

Faolan stared at him again, shocked into silence. She looked away, then looked back at Raleigh, and finally laughed and said, "I thought that you forgot about that- or disregarded it…"

"So it was you," he said, a smile creeping over his face, "And they weren't just dreams. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you remembered," she answered, "When you and I first met, here… it didn't seem like you remembered."

"Well, you always appeared as Carry- not like this," he answered, squeezing her hand.

"I think that's because that's what you expected to see, and that's how I felt when I was around you," Faolan said with a smile.

"Ahh…." Raleigh sighed happily and leaned back against his pillows, closing his eyes momentarily, "That- Carry… I know your name is Faolan now but you're still Carry, Faolan… You're still Carry."

"Yes," Faolan replied quietly, "I suppose I still am."

She leaned over and kissed him then, falling into his arms, which he wrapped around her and pulled her closer to him. "Carry," he whispered into her ear, "Faolan. I've missed you… I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she answered him, resting her face against his neck, "It's been a long time. A long time."

OOO

A sharp pain lanced through my head and I leaped up, whirling around, a hand going to the back of my head and short cropped hair. My fingers encountered a warm wetness and I cursed under my breath. There was a short laugh from behind a low rock wall a few feet away. In all of my eight year old rage I ran over, leaped the fence and tackled whoever was behind it. There was a scream and my fist pounded into the rock thrower's face repeatedly until he was limp. Then I stepped back to see who it was.

"Don't hurt me anymore Lea," Clay whispered, his hands covering his bloody face. I kicked him in the leg, though without the anger from before.

"Don't throw rocks at me!" I told him, "It isn't nice!"

"I'm sorry," he said and I stepped back. The hands slowly came back down from his face and he sat up, pressing himself against the wall.

"Who put you up to it?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips.

"No one," Clay whimpered, "Everyone knows you're an orphan…"

"I AM NOT AN ORPHAN!" I screamed at him and almost started beating him up again when a pair of strong arms pulled me up and away from the little boy.

"Now, now Lea," a familiar voice said as I was set down. I turned around to face a bearded face and kindly eyes. I glowered.

"She hit me," Clay whispered from behind, still cowering.

"That should teach you not to throw rocks, then, shouldn't it?" Master Morian said sternly, "Go home, boy. Don't come back here."

Clay ran. I grinned, watching him kick up dirt as he hurried away. Let him go play with all his stupid little friends. I was fine without them.

The Wizard took my hand and led me back to the house, passing over the spot in the dirt where I was tracing spells- wishing I could be a Wizard too- but Morian said I didn't have the Mage-Gift… I was almost positive he was completely wrong, and that if I tried doing magic enough, it would finally come to me. Then I could find my parents… People said they were dead- but they had only disappeared… not died. They'd come back some day. Or I'd find them. Even though it had been three years.

"Lea," Master Morian said softly as we walked, hand in hand, "I heard what you said- about your not being an orphan… and, while it's wrong of them to throw rocks at you, the way to stop it isn't to deny the truth."

"But I'm NOT an orphan," I muttered, kicking a rock and pulling my hand from his.

"Yes, my little one, you are," Morian said, "It's a sad, hard truth, but you have to face it. How will you ever survive in this rough world, little one?"

"They're NOT dead," I muttered darkly, avoiding looking at him.

Morian sighed, then stopped and knelt down to look at me directly in the eye, "Lea… I know it was never fully explained to you, and perhaps that's why you hang onto this false hope… but they are dead. I saw them killed. They were the only casualties from that bandit attack- they weren't kidnapped, they didn't disappear. They were murdered- and those bandits have already been caught and hung. Now step up and look at the good things, okay, Lea?"

I didn't answer. He'd seen them killed? Why hadn't he told me earlier? I glanced up at him, risking a look at his face. It was sad, and loving. I turned and ran, back down the road, then over the fence and across the field into the forest…

Faolan sighed, pausing outside the Sommer's rooms later that same day, lost in memories from very, very old lives. That had been a rough life. She hadn't, of course, had the Mage Gift, and had never developed it… some Lea learned to accept a few years later. She ended up falling in love with a soldier that passed through one day and marrying him and becoming a warrior's wife, raising his children and keeping a watch over his bit of farm… That had been a rough life. Fao wondered, briefly, if her descendants by that life were still around, still farming that bit of land. That wasn't even in Valdemar though- the language she remembered speaking was some variant of one of the countries southwest of Valdemar.

Then she took a deep breath and knocked on the door quietly before opening it herself and poking her head in. It was quiet, and she could tell immediately no one was there, so she shut the door and ran trainee schedules through her head. It was nearing lunch, so she headed down to the Common room. It was empty too, though she could hear sounds coming from the kitchen that announced lunch was on the way to being made. She went and sat down in a corner, intending to try and catch Maemi or Kayin during lunch time.

Faolan leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, letting little wisps of memories float through her mind. She was Carry, yes, and many others too. Many others. She wondered if every soul was so old- if everyone had been living since the dawn of time. Her memories started fading before remembering any sort of beginning… but perhaps that was just fading. Was the whole world just a simple repetition of peoples and lives, growing and learning and growing and learning and pushing the world forward? But if ever soul was as old, why hadn't everyone learned to be nice to each other yet? Or were good and evil not determined by soul, but by the life one was born into? That was a scary thought- for it suggested that the way to solve dark deeds in the world would simply be to get rid of the conditions that bred them… Faolan sighed, and decided these were questions for after one died- questions only Gods knew the answers to.

I can wait, I suppose, she thought, Wait until I die to figure all that. Though since I remember no afterlives I suppose it won't make a difference anyway.

The doors to the hall suddenly burst open, jerking Faolan from her thoughts, and she looked up as a group of Herald trainees walked in. Most of them ignored Faolan, though a few shot curious glances in her direction. Just another Herald in from the war, Faolan could see them thinking, though she must have looked young for that. Those trainees, some of them, looked almost her own age and it made Faolan confused. She felt so old… with all her lives and all that had happened in this life- and yet she was still only fourteen, still as young as those trainees over there…

After that people started filtering in slowly, in ones, twos, or threes. All looked hopefully towards the pass through, but the food wasn't quite ready yet- the lunch bell hadn't rung yet and Faolan assumed these were trainees that finished early. As expected, a few moments later, the bell rang and a few trainees appeared and started bringing food to the tables. Faolan stood up at that point and got herself a plate and cutlery. Her stomach rumbled as she smelled the food that was being served.

At this point trainees started pouring in- the doors were almost never still. Faolan spied Maemi soon and waved to him. He almost didn't notice her, but then their eyes caught and he motioned to Faolan to his friends and they all headed over to her. The small boy that had wanted to play bears and hide behind Rathmir was long gone- here was a young man just starting to shoot up in height, lanky, clumsy looking… And he was Faolan's age. She watched him approach with a smile, finding it hard to comprehend that this boy whom she'd known had as many years in life as she had- but he was so young! So innocent of the terrors and horrors of war!

"Hi," Faolan said as he sat down across from her, his friends seating themselves around him, peering at her curiously.

"Hello," Maemi answered shyly, glancing at his friends, then saying, "Um… this is Faolan- she's the werewolf who has been spying for us for the last eight years…"

"Eight years?" a boy spoke up- he looked a little younger than Maemi, perhaps thirteen, and was a little shorter too, "How can you have been spying for eight years? You don't look very old…"

"I'm not," Faolan answered, "I'm fourteen- fifteen next spring."

The four trainees exchanged glances and then Maemi said, "She was Chosen when she was three- right?"

Faolan nodded again, feeling torn between embarrassment and amusement. She met the eyes of each of the trainees, then continued eating, content to let them question her.

"Three?" it was another one who spoke up now- this one a little taller, with thin black hair that brushed his shoulders, "That's impossible!"

"No it's not," Maemi pointed out, "Because it happened- what- did you think Herald Faolan didn't exist? That the stories of a young werewolf Herald fighting out on the front were just stories?"

The three boys sitting around Maemi traded uneasy glances, then the one who had first spoken shrugged, and said, "Well we'd never seen her…"

"It's because she's a werewolf," Maemi said, then glanced at Faolan for confirmation. She nodded, and let him keep talking, "She was bitten, then Chosen and her Companion saved her from succumbing to the wildness of a normal werewolf- so she's not like those we're fighting. Something about being a werewolf made her grow up very quickly- so she wasn't really like a little kid anymore. It cemented her personality or something- you know people aren't usually Chosen until they've started to grow up, formed the personalities they will carry through life…"

Faolan kept her expression one that did not betray her interest at this description- had Maemi thought all of that up on his own or was that what Rathmir told him? He probably didn't remember much of Faolan from when she had last been here- a nerving thought. The four trainee's gazes moved back to Faolan once Maemi was done talking- and they stared at her, in a not so discreet manner, obviously hoping she'd tell them a little more.

"Maemi has it pretty much down," Faolan nodded, glad not to have to manufacture stories of her own, "And then once it was known that the enemy were werewolves too, the Queen looked at her resources and found little ole' me- young, innocent, a werewolf- mature enough to care for herself, with a wise Companion to guide her… And that was that."

"Faolan…?" Maemi asked cautiously a moment later- looking startling like the little boy he once was again in the curious innocence of the way he spoke, "You coming home… does this mean the war is almost over? That we don't need you anymore?"

Faolan sighed softly, the breath whistling from her body, and she watched the faces of the four children fall when they read her answer on her face. She probably had that haunted look that most of the post-war Heralds had… She sighed again, and shifted around in her seat before taking a long draught of water from her cup.

"No," she finally said, "It doesn't. I came back because there was nothing more I could do there for Valdemar."

"They call you Wolfsbane," the third piped up- his voice still the high tenor of a boy.

"What's your name?" Faolan asked him, leaning forward and shoving her plate a bit to make room for her elbows on the table.

"Autumn," he said, looking shy- Faolan suddenly had a feeling that Maemi's little group of friends were the quiet ones.

"A nice name," Faolan informed him with a smile, "And pray none ever dubs you with any other."

No one asked her about being called Wolfsbane after that. The other two Maemi introduced as Micah and Teagan. Micah was the one with black hair, Teagan the one who had first spoken to her. Their chat was small talk after that, skirting around the war, Faolan avoiding talking about and instead inquiring about Maemi's own life in Haven. She felt distant as she did so, like she was moving without conscious control and her soul drifted above her. It was good to get to know Maemi again, but… their conversation had made her withdrawn. She had so many different reactions to her homecoming, but Maemi's had been the saddest. She should have talked to the trainees from the beginning… They knew so little, were so young! And these children were to be the next ones on the front, throwing themselves in front of the arrows and claws of her old friends… As Faolan wrapped up the conversation and headed back to her rooms, she barely noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks.

A/N: And that's that! Next chapter coming up soon. Any more guesses as to the meaning of 53's title? And thanks muchly muchly to...
GinaStar- Yup! No Morgan in this chapter though, and only a little in the next. Mwaha... next chapter is fun!
SwiftShadow- Thank you! I very much appreciate your support!
LightningStorms- Dunno if it'll ever get that far- if I ever get around to delackeyize it! I have so many novels I'm working on... Maybe I will. I like some of the characters I have in this story a lot.
StormyPhoenix- :)
The-Elven-Bookworm- It's good to know if I DO get this published there are people out there who'd want to buy it! Then again, if Eragon can get published and sell, this should be able to also. bashes Eragon
ginalee- Yah I like Valentine too:)