A/N: Disclaimer - All of the canon characters and settings are property of the incredible Tamora Pierce. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so please R&R and I'll try to improve!

The Royal Palace, Tortall

4

Outset

Two days later, after the other Pages had arrived at the palace and settled in, Nishiko's training truly began. haMinch met all the Pages, new and old, in the banquet hall before breakfast was served. Among roughly forty or so boys, there was only one other girl - a short, curly-haired blonde with a slightly upturned nose, thin brows, and unfortunately splotchy freckles. Nishiko casually caught her eye and smiled at the girl encouragingly. In return, she received a ferocious yellow-eyed glare and a scowl of pure hatred from the girl that took Nishiko by surprise enough to almost make her step back. Instead, Nishiko planted her fleet more solidly on the marble floor and pushed her confusion aside as the Training Master began to speak.

"Welcome to our new Pages, to the old – welcome back, I'm happily surprised that you've all decided to return. I will not waste your time with inspiring speeches about your significance to the realm. I would not want your heads to be inflated and unwieldy before I send you off to physical training." Pages chuckles and haMinch seemed much more informal and relaxed now that his knee was mending. "Besides, I am certain that their Majesties will be visiting us in the coming weeks to discuss this matter. In the meantime, know that you are all vital and that no untoward conduct will be permitted amongst you. Respect one another as you respect yourselves and the names of your families. Without further ado, sponsors;"

He read off of a list of the new Pages, "Duncan of Hollyrose." A pale, skinny boy with bright red hair and blue eyes stepped forward hesitantly and was claimed by an older boy similar enough in appearance to be assumed a relative. "Marcus of Kennan." An incredibly tall, broad-shouldered boy with auburn hair and grey eyes worked his way through to the front of the crowd and was matched with a sponsor. Then it was Nishiko's turn. As haMinch called her forward, she walked slowly to the front concealing her nervousness by flicking her long braid back behind her and standing next to haMinch with her hands folded before her waiting for a volunteer.

There was a moment of tenuous silence that felt like an eternity before a tall, tan boy with shining black eyes and hair raised his hand. Exhaling a small sigh of relief, Nishiko walked out of the center of attention and stood beside her sponsor with a slight smile.

The boy held out his hand to Nishiko and shook whispering, "Aviram, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." Nishiko nodded cheerfully in return recognizing him as the son of Lord Raoul and Lady Buri, good friends of Kel and her parents. She turned her attention back to the front as the training Master announced, "Phoebe of Fenrigh." The glowering girl stepped forward still wearing an unpleasant expression as if she constantly caught whiffs of a foul odor.

There was a long pause that stretched out awkwardly as older Pages assessed Phoebe skeptically and concluded that her obvious bad attitude would make sponsoring her a chore. The Training Master was about to open his mouth to implore the boys when finally, someone in the very back timidly raised a hand and Phoebe went to stand by him, scowling darkly all the way.

"Rowland of New Hope" shook chin-length brown hair out of his teal eyes, walked to the front, and was sponsored by Garland of Naxen, the great-grandson of the Prime Minister Duke Gareth the Younger. Finally, the last new Page, "Torin of Wellam" was called. Torin was only a little taller than Nishiko with dazzling, prematurely silver hair and dark brown eyes. He moved slowly and deliberately with the grace of a great cat. Instantly, a sponsor presented himself – Prince Leon of Conté, the son of Crown Prince Roald's younger brother Prince Liam.

Leon greeted Torin with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes and Nishiko looked over the boy who was fourth in line to the throne of Tortall with interest. Leon had the distinctive black hair and blue eyes of the Conté line, but his pale skin, prominent forehead, and deep-set eyes evoked the distinctive features of his mother – the Scanran Princess Shirae who had been betrothed to Prince Liam as part of the peace treaty that ended the Scanran War in 463 H.E.

Once the matter of sponsorship was at last settled, all of the Pages queued in a practiced, orderly fashion before the array of food that had been set out for them in the back of the hall while they had been focused on the Training Master. From the excessive choices available, Nishiko and loaded up her wooden plate with a warm bread roll, rice, crispy slices of pork, a fried egg, and an apple – she would need her strength to get through the rigorous first day.

Sitting next to Aviram, Nishiko ate as he explained, "My father told me you would be coming this year, it's good to finally meet you after hearing so much talk. Now formalities aside, even though you probably already know most of this, here's the rundown: physical lessons like riding and archery are in the morning while intellectual classes are in the afternoon with bathing and lunch in between. After the last class, there's an optional but highly encouraged lecture series that talks about everything from survival skills to religion – fascinating stuff really. But by the end of this week, if you ask me what free time is it'll be like explaining the moon to a mole."

Garland sat beside Aviram with Rowland and interjected, "You make it sound absolutely hellish Avi, but I appreciate your use of simile. The Master of Literacy would be impressed."

"It is indeed hellish, Gar. Luckily you provide me with an easy escape," Aviram chortled.

"Oh?" Garland replied, keen to hear the punchline, "and what escape would that be."

"All I have to do is climb up to the level of your ego then fall down to the level of your intellect and sure enough I'll be welcomed by the Black God's sweet embrace soon after."

Nishiko burst into raucous laughter with the fried egg in her mouth and had to snort in a most unladylike fashion in order to keep the food safely in her gob. Luckily, all the surrounding Pages had found it just as amusing and her spluttering was concealed by the general hubbub.

"Anyways," Garland drawled, "hurry up with that food, my green sproutlings. We've got to be ready for first hour in about five minutes and I for one don't want to be late first day."

"Don't choke though," Aviram feigned concern, supervising as the Pages took their last bites, disposed of their plates in the kitchen, and were led to their first lesson, "wouldn't want you to go to the Peaceful Realms before fully experiencing this rather turbulent one."

They began by sitting on the floor of the inner practice court and stretching their limbs in various configurations familiar to Nishiko from her time in the Yamani Isles. She was surprised to see that when they all stood and leaned down to touch their toes most of the boys seemed to struggle with the move while she and Phoebe, whom she dared to risk a glimpse at, had no issue executing the posture. Interesting, Nishiko thought to herself, I must ask father about that. Perhaps it has to do with the ratio of torso and leg length in men versus women.

After being stretched thoroughly, haMinch passed them off to a wiry man named Killen who would lead the Pages' run about the crenelated ramparts of the palace. Killen escorted them up many flights of stairs that made all of the younger Pages breathe heavily before they even started the real exercise. Finally, they reached a small, yet heavy stone door that opened out onto wallwalk with a waist-high parapet on their right topping the curtain wall and a sturdy wooden balustrade on the left. A warm summer breeze rolled gently over the wall and blew at all of their loose red and gold tunics. Nishiko looked down at her own knee-length garment as it fluttered in the wind examining the slits up the side that allowed for movement.

Aviram saw her glance and nudged her joking, "Hope you don't get that caught on any torch brackets or spikes up here. One unexpected tug and-" he pulled at an invisible rope around his thick neck and feigned a hilariously exaggerated death grimace complete with lolling tongue.

Nishiko laughed, then affected a mock-serious tone as she pronounced, "I swear by my flouncy, red apron-cape that if I die I'm taking you and the seamstress with me."

Avi guffawed as Killen began to lead them in a light, steady jog that slowly escalated into a full-out sprint. The older boys at the front saw this as an opportunity to compete and subtly nudged and edged one another out trying to gain the lead. Nishiko was running powerfully and breathing easily due to her years of exercise, but others in her class did not fare so well. Phoebe's face was tomato-red as she gasped and spluttered for air rather than modulating short exhalations with long inhalations. Duncan was also struggling and seemed to have pulled a muscle in his right calf causing his gate to wobble strangely. Even Torin, as fit as he had first appeared, was losing steam quickly. When they completed their first full circuit about the rampart, Killen allowed them to slow to a brisk walk. So that everyone could hear behind him, he yelled, "Don't stop! If you stop you'll cramp! Keep walking, regain your wind, and then we begin again!"

When they worked back up to a sprint, Duncan threw up his breakfast over the outer rampart while Phoebe panted and clutched at stitches in her side. Everyone was tiring by this point and Nishiko wondered vaguely how they could start the day this rigorously when there was so much more to do. Finally, they completed a second full lap of the wallwalk and stumbled back through the door and down the stairs to the outside practice yards with tired, shaking legs.

New Pages split off from the old and headed toward the archery yard where two men were waiting for them. After assessing the new Pages' bow skills at increasingly distant targets, the Archery Master moved Nishiko, Rowland, and Torin to a different range while he worked with the others to improve their aim and stance. The setup of the upper-level range was like nothing Nishiko had ever seen before – targets shaped like humans with concentric rings painted around heads and chests were attached to metal-wrapped cords that tugged the figures this way and that when the Archery Master's apprentice turned a crank at the end of the array.

"Jus' be careful that no ma'er how far your target moves to left o' right, don' shoot the Lord - or Lady," he added nodding deferentially to Nishiko, "next to ya."

Despite seeming obvious enough, the apprentice's advice was good to hear considering that Nishiko nearly took Rowland's ear off. She was so intent on following her moving target that she almost loosed her arrow before realizing that the obstruction before her sight was flesh. By the end of the hour, only Torin had successfully hit his target once and only barely at that.

"Don't dismay lads," the Archery Master walked back over bow in hand, "For next time, all you have to do is anticipate where the target will be by the time your arrow reaches it rather than its location at the moment you release."

With a nod to his apprentice to turn the crank, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, notched, and tracked the movement of the first target for a few moments with his arrow tip and outstretched arm pointed slightly ahead of the target's path. With a fluid gesture, the Master released the arrow from his two-fingered grip and it whooshed past his ear sinking deeply into the first target's chest bullseye. Five nearly instantaneous releases later and each target was pierced in the head and chest bullseyes – he had clearly only been slow on the first shot to demonstrate for their benefit. Rowland was open-mouthed in shocked admiration while Torin looked skeptically at the target as if wondering whether what he had just witnessed was possible.

Nishiko raised her hand and the Archery Master chided gently, "No need to raise your hand out here Queenscove, this is the outdoors not a classroom. Ask your question."

She nodded and asked, "How do you determine where the target will be by the time your arrow reaches it?"

The Master scratched his head and replied, "Your Master of Mathematics could likely give you a more logical explanation having to do with velocity and some-such equation, but all I can say is that it's something you sense. You get a feel for how far away a target is and how long it'll take for the arrow to get there and then you just…know when to fire. There aren't rules I can teach you, archery is more art than skill so practice is the only way to improve."

Feeling a little dejected and very confused, the new Pages moved on to practicing with wooden staffs. Here Nishiko regained some of her confidence as she wielded the staff properly, hands evenly spaces with a firm grip and feet planted in a sturdily. After half an hour of basic repeat-after-me movements lead by the Staff Master, each Page was matched to an opponent by height. Duncan faced off against Phoebe, Rowland against Marcus, and Nishiko against Torin. The Master shouted out strike patterns and they all parried and blocked with their staffs, correct blows making a satisfying clack while glancing blows stuck fingers. Nishiko and Torin were very evenly matched and she smiled at Torin as each strike and block was coordinated perfectly. He did not return the smile, but instead gazed back at her with wary disdain. The expression surprised Nishiko enough to shake her concentration and her blow accidentally struck Torin's hand instead of his staff. He yelled in pain dropping his weapon and stepping back from Nishiko.

"I am so sorry Torin!" she exclaimed, horrified by her mistake, "Here, let me heal it."

As she reached out to take his injured hand, Torin jerked away suddenly causing even more pain and roared, "Don't touch me you ha-" he broke off suddenly as if remembering what haMinch had said about disrespectful behavior towards fellow Pages. All the other matches came to a halt and the Pages watched as the Staff Master swooped in to assess the situation.

"What seems to be the trouble, Wellam?" the older man asked, sharply, "It was an honest mistake, let the girl heal you! Or are you just being prideful?"

Torin looked down at his feet and shook his head 'no.' Nishiko approached Torin cautiously and gently took his injured hand in hers tilting it left and right to determine the injury.

"Your middle finger is broken, but I can fix it easily," she said as turquoise light glowed around her hand and seeped into Torin's. He gasped as the magic took hold and restored his finger as if nothing had happened.

"Better?" Torin nodded but refused to look Nishiko in the eye.

"If you do not thank her, Torin, I'll assign you punishment duty," the Master threatened.

"There's no need!" Nishiko interjected worriedly, "I caused the injury, he shouldn't have to thank me for undoing it."

The Master was about to protest when Torin mumbled mechanically, "Thank you."

Nishiko was reassigned to Rowland and Torin to Marcus in order to avoid further issues.

As Nishiko got back in the rhythm of staffwork, Rowland whispered, "What the hell was all his fuss about? Injuries happen when you're a Page, what does he expect?"

She shook her head, "No idea, I was only trying to help." Nishiko parried Rowland's staff neatly and continued, "Right before the accident he looked at me like I was a dead rat."

"I've heard that the Wellam family is quite conservative, but they're also reasonable."

"Perhaps the leaf was blown far from the tree," Nishiko speculated.

The next hour was spent learning how to fall properly, the first basic skill of hand-to-hand combat. This was an old lesson for Nishiko; she distributed her wait evenly across her torso and slapped the ground as she landed enabling herself to spring back up into the ready combat position rather than crumpling to the dirt uselessly. Since she was obviously familiar with the move, the Fighting Master used her to demonstrate the fall to the others. Phoebe scowled and Torin simply refused to watch Nishiko at all. Their loss, she thought grimly.

The last physical lesson of the day was riding – Nishiko's favorite aspect of the warrior's craft. There was nothing quite like the feeling of oneness the rider experienced with her horse when the steed's gate and her movements in the saddle suddenly harmonized. The pony that carried Nishiko to Corus was a good gelding, but mainly built for long-distance rather than speed. Nishiko would have to borrow one of the palace horses, so she perused the stables with a sugar cube in hand as an offering of good will. After walking past row upon row of perfectly fine horses that simply did not call to her, Nishiko's shoulder was butted by a velvety muzzle as she passed. She turned back to see a large amber eye staring back at her out of a speckled, blue roan face and a black, wiry mane that stuck straight up from the gelding's muscular neck.

Nishiko read the tag on the bridle and tack hanging on the stable door aloud, "Spanky?"

The gelding whickered softly and lipped at the sugar cube. She let Spanky have it and blew into his wide nostrils while he chewed in order to familiarize him with her scent.

"Seems to me like you're the one, Spanky," Nishiko spoke to him like a human as she carefully saddled, bridled, and mounted the horse that would carry her for the next four years.

She rode him out of the barn and into the huge, enclosed field that served as the Pages' riding pasture. Buriram Tourakom of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak stood confidently in the center of the field holding the rains of a pony as she waited for the Pages to ride in.

Once they were all arranged before her, Buri explained, "We're going to do things a little differently here. Today, you will all ride however you like – no instructions, routines, or requirements. Just ride about and show me what you can do. I will supervise and correct only so that I can decide where to start teaching you. My first rule, and the only one I'll teach today, is a K'miri adage: 'Ride your horse in the direction that it's going.'"

With that, Buri turned the new Pages loose and allowed them to become familiar with their new steeds. Despite the implications of his name, Spanky was quite agreeable and responded to the slightest squeezing of Nishiko's thighs around his belly rather than kicks. She gradually increased his speed from trot to canter to gallop feeling the wind fly behind them as her heart whooped with glee at the speed. Deciding to show off just a little, Nishiko steered Spanky gracefully over a jump that had been left standing by the previous lesson.

"Very good, Queenscove," Buriram came up beside her as Spanky slowed to a trot. "You and that horse have an understanding with one another. You're dismissed for the rest of the hour. Go ahead and wash off, both of you." She leaned over to scratch Spanky's ear then trotted off.

Nishiko bowed in the saddle and rode the gelding back to his stable to give him a nice rub down and clean the tack. After this was complete, she luxuriated alone in the bath specifically built for female Pages and Squires at the urging of female Pages who came after Lady Knight Keladry. Eventually, Phoebe joined her in the bath looking grim and covered in horse saliva.

"What's your horse's name?" Nishiko asked, trying to start a friendly conversation.

Phoebe stripped with impunity and sneered, "Why do you care?"

Nishiko had endured just about enough unwarranted rudeness for the day and replied curtly, "If you want to be left alone, all you had to was say so. No need to be obnoxious."

"You don't get it, do you?" Phoebe asked, shaking her head sanctimoniously.

"Get what?" Nishiko snapped.

"I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to be your friend, you're the competition."

"Competition?" now Nishiko was merely perplexed, "Being a Page isn't about winning last time I checked, Phoebe. It's just about each person learning and doing well."

Phoebe scoffed, "Wow, you really don't know. What rock have you been living under?"

"Now listen you-" Nishiko, enraged, was cut off as Phoebe explained,

"Each year since Keladry became Squire to Lord Raoul, at most only one female Page makes it to Squire. Whenever there are multiple girls in the same year, only one can make it."

"That's absurd," Nishiko felt relieved – if this was the cause for Phoebe's rudeness, she could put it to bed with just a few logical arguments and perhaps they would become friends yet.

"It is not! Take a look at haMinch's stupid wall of names. You'll only find one or zero girl names per year," Phoebe crossed her arms and humphed like she had won a great debate.

"Even if that's true, I'm sure it's just a coincidence," Nishiko replied quietly, feeling a less certain, "Rumors of this "curse" probably cause it as well like a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Curse, prophecy, conspiracy, quota - call it what you will, but that's the way it is and since you're so much better at everything than me thus far, the odds are stacked against me."

Nishiko nervously finger-combed her wet hair getting stuck in the seemingly endless knots and tangles from the day. Turning to the bath attendant she politely requested a pair of shears and proceeded to keep untangling her coal black tresses in the warm, soapy water.

She hesitated, "Assuming all of that is true, it behooves us to work together rather than against each other so we can beat the odds. I think both of us should be able to become Squires."

"Leave me alone," Phoebe pouted and swam as far away from Shiko as the bath allowed.

The servant returned with the shears and handed them to Nishiko who began to calmly snip at her hair gathering the severed strands into a towel on the side of the bath. Phoebe watched, trying to disguise her curiosity as Nishiko removed several long sections. Nishiko stopped trimming when she was left with hair that fell just above her shoulders curling slightly in toward her neck with a slight fringe of bangs across the right side of her forehead. Looking at her reflection in the undulating bath water, Nishiko smiled with satisfaction and submerged washing the last flecks of dirt and hair off of her body. She rose out of the bath, water streaming off her clean body, and thanked the attendant as she handed Nishiko a towel. Wrapping it securely around herself, Nishiko turned to face Phoebe who sat far below her in the bathwater.

Allowing her face to go Yamani smooth, Nishiko smiled coldly at Phoebe and intoned, "See being a Page as a game if you will, I have no personal quarrel with you. However, if you try to sabotage me out of some misguided attempt to increase your chances of becoming a Squire, I will cut you away as I did this hair, as I will anything that distracts me or holds me back."

Nishiko turned and walked abruptly out of the bath and into the changing room where she dried off and donned her hose and tunic. Hopefully that performance convinced her not to mess with me, Nishiko thought stifling a giggle. She had never thought of herself as very intimidating, but the look on Phoebe's face made Nishiko realize the kind of impact she could have.