Author's Note: Thanks to my reviewers! No action in this chapter, but it will pick back up in the next one. The plot must advance, and characters must be introduced! And Nanicane, here's some more Mercedes for you. )

Ceileigh's mind was elsewhere as they left the Noble Quarter. They had just abandoned Ser Aerick to an excited, congratulatory knot of workmen and their families. Some had seen their fight from down the road or the nearby bridge and run ahead to spread the word. By the time Ceileigh and her pawns reached the gate between the Craftsman's and Noble Quarters, a small crowd was clamoring after them. Dozens of people followed them all the way up the stairs to the front of the castle, bestowing praise and gifts upon them. They had to make their report with arms full of bread loaves, flower bunches and carved knick-knacks. The smith's wife even draped a flower wreath around Leandor's neck, much to his discomfiture and Ceileigh's amusement. Then they had somehow directed the crowd's attention to Aerick and made their escape.

Ceileigh was silently arguing with herself over why feeling something for Leandor was stupid, when he interrupted by bending close to her ear. "Master, I wish to give input," he said in a low voice, glancing over his shoulder at Elijah and Morten. The two pawns were walking side by side, gawking at buildings and people with slightly awed expressions. "It may not be my place, but…I believe you should release those pawns as soon as possible."

"Oh?" was all she said, wanting to see if he was thinking the same thing as her.

"Yes, I fear they will bring you more harm than protection. The warrior is too eager and the mage is a coward," he said with displeasure. "I do not mean to say that you chose poorly - you cannot discern inclinations when choosing your companions after all, just their skills and experiences." He looked at her a bit anxiously, but she smiled up at him.

"I understand," she said, please with his concern and the fact that they were on the same page. She had planned to release them anyway, for exactly those reasons. She stopped right there and told the two pawns they could go, but let them keep the gifts they were holding.

Morten simply bowed and walked away in silence, but Elijah looked stricken. "I had hoped to serve you adequately," he quavered, then walked away with slumped shoulders.

"We sure have come across some interesting characters," Ceileigh said with raised eyebrows as they turned into Fountain Square and entered the inn. "I wonder what some Arisen are thinking when they choose their main companions. That's assuming every pawn is paired with their own Arisen. Or are there 'extras' wandering through the Rift, waiting to be called on by whoever needs them?"

"I do not know. I know only my own role for certain," said Leandor, again feeling uncomfortable about his lack of knowledge. "Perhaps Barnaby could help us understand."

"Yes, I should ask him sometime. Anyway, I'm just glad you didn't turn out like them!" Ceileigh laughed as they entered the inn. "Although your taste in accessories leaves something to be desired," she laughed again, flicking the flower wreath around his neck. Leandor's mouth flattened. He had that feeling of being undignified again, like when the cow knocked him down. Embarrassment? He was fairly certain that was it.

They dumped all their gifts onto their beds, separating the bread into cloth wraps for storing. "I'm starving," Ceileigh announced. "I never ate breakfast, and then all that fighting…" She took back one of the loaves and found some cheese in her pack. Leandor took out some preserved, salted meat and they had a proper lunch together, mostly silent as they were too busy digging into their food. Ceileigh was thinking, too, about how good it felt to help people, her feelings toward Leandor, and her possible new powers.

"Well," she said around the last bite of her second sandwich. "Should we head over to see Berne?"

Ser Berne was at that moment discussing Enlistment Corps inventory with a fellow soldier in the armory, setting aside weapons that needed repair. A shadow fell through the open doorway and they looked up to see Captain Mercedes standing there with her hands on her hips.

"Excuse us, Corpsman," she said to other soldier. She stepped aside to let him leave, then sauntered up to Berne, who braced himself. It was the first contact they'd had since he'd confronted her in her office.

"How may I assist you, Captain?" he said neutrally, giving her a salute which she did not return.

"Berne. I trust you are well?" she asked with an icy smile. "I come with…new orders…for you and your men. You are to stop all training with the - this Ceileigh woman immediately."

"Has she caused some trouble?" Berne asked, playing dumb. "I have not seen -"

"She is not part of the Corps," Mercedes interrupted sharply. "You need to focus on our men."

"I assure you, she takes no attention away from-"

"If you wish to remain 'well', I suggest you follow orders," Mercedes ground out, clenching her fist at him. "Stop encouraging this…this…common pretender."

Berne forced his face to stay neutral despite his rising anger. "As you say, Commander."

They heard friendly shouts of greeting from outside and Mercedes leaned out the door for a look. She looked back at Berne with a satisfied grin. "And here she comes now. I will leave you to break the bad news to your little friend. In fact…do not tell her this was an order. Simply tell her you no longer want her here. That should take the wind out of her sails." She slipped out the door with a dark chuckle before Ceileigh could notice she was there.

Berne sighed and gave himself a few moments before stepping out onto the field. Ceileigh was talking and laughing with Clifford and a few other soldiers while that pawn of hers glared at everything in sight. Berne's stomach clenched with anxiety and anger. He didn't like being made to do things against his conscience. He truly believed she was Arisen, and he didn't want to crush a young, ambitious girl's dreams regardless of who she was. There was no way he could allow her onto the practice field without Mercedes knowing, however. If he told her the truth about why, Mercedes would surely find out as well.

"Arisen!" he called, waving at her. She trotted over and he winced inside to see her smile and eager expression.

"Hail, Ser Berne!" she said happily as she clanked to a stop in her armor. "How are you?"

"I am well," he said with a forced smile. "And you?"

"I have a question for you, actually. It might be crazy, but long story short, I think I have magick that enhances my weapons and battle skills. There was this spell…it was an accident. Anyway, have you ever heard of anything like that, or know any soldiers who use it?"

"Hold on, slow down," Berne said, chuckling at her enthusiasm despite what he had to say. "Listen…I have…bad news. I cannot train you anymore, or let you use the practice field."

"What? Why?!" Ceileigh asked, disappointment and confusion wrinkling her face.

"You take up too much time and you distract the men from their exercises with your chatter. Besides, allowing any drifting villager who wishes to use facilities meant for real soldiers is not seemly," he said firmly, hoping he was harsh enough to keep her away.

"I don't understand. I don't understand this at all! Did I do something wrong? How could you turn me away like this?"

Berne just stared at her silently, hating the situation.

"I need this training for the dragon! And I thought you liked training me. I thought we were friends," she said, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Please leave the field before I call the guard," he said, staring past her now.

She stood there for a moment more, looking at him with hurt eyes, then ran back to her pawn, holding onto his arm and looking up at him tearfully, presumably relating their conversation as they walked away. The soldiers looked between Ceileigh and Berne in confusion, wondering what had just happened. He did not look forward to trying to explain this one away.

Ceileigh barely managed not to cry as she and Leandor quickly returned to the inn. At the door, she dropped his arm and hurried ahead to their room. When Leandor reached the room a minute later, the door was standing open and Ceileigh was sprawled out on her bed, silent tears running down the sides of her face as she stared at the ceiling. He sat on his bed and waited for her to speak.

"I don't understand this at all," she said again, finally starting to cry. "Why would he do this? He offered to train me in the first place, I never asked him to. Perhaps…perhaps I've turned out much worse than he expected and it's not worth his time to continue training me. Perhaps they've all been indulging me this whole time, watching me make a fool of myself until they grew weary of it."

"I do not know their thoughts, but you do have skill in battle," Leandor assured her.

Ceileigh shrugged as she wiped away the last of her tears. "Just one more person I can't trust, it seems."

She didn't feel like going back out for a while, so they spent the next several hours taking stock of their situation. They went through their belongings, making a list of what they needed next time they went out shopping or gathering. Their stored meat would only last another day so they had to hunt tomorrow. Ceileigh made a list of armor to save up for, and set aside what they could toward a better room. Both of them read through different battle books Ceileigh had picked up from a stand in Fountain Square - tactical guides to fighting harpies, goblins and cyclopses. Ceileigh's mood gradually lightened, and they got to talking about Leandor's knowledge of monsters and what he'd seen with other Arisen.

"How many Arisen have you met?" she asked him eagerly.

"I have followed dozens."

"And? What are they like?"

"All are different." He paused. "None are like you."

If Ceileigh had a heart it would have beat a little faster. "How's that?"

"No other Arisen cares for the thoughts of their pawns beyond what may help in the field, or for our physical forms beyond use in battle," he said. "Some let us damage ourselves beyond repair fighting for them, while they stand back in safety and keep all curatives to themselves. Those Arisen cycle through many pawns as a result of constantly losing them all."

"That's awful! Even knowing that pawns regenerate in the Rift, I don't see how anyone could be so callous. You still feel pain and get tired, right? And your version of dying must still be a horrible thing to go through, especially over and over."

Leandor shrugged slightly. "An Arisen may ask anything of us; there is no command too great. Most do join with us in battle, however, and let us carry healing agents to cure ourselves with. Even so, they only wish us to remain well in order to fight. And yes, we feel pain and fatigue, but we have very high tolerance and endurance compared to humans."

"On the subject of feeling things…I was told pawns had no emotions. That's obviously not true, but you differ from humans to be sure. So, is it that you have limited emotions, or do you simply not show them?"

He thought for a moment. "When I first came into this world, I was fully consumed with the desire to serve, focused on the goal of defeating Grigori and nothing else. However, I seem to feel…a wider range of things the longer I am here. Perhaps not as deeply as humans, but the feelings are there nonetheless. It may be that this world is slowly influencing me."

Ceileigh smiled at that thought. "You know, this is one of the longest conversations we've had this entire two months. Wow, it's only been two months - it seems longer than that!"

"Although it is not my natural inclination, I will attempt to initiate more dialogue if that is your wish."

"I was merely making an observation, although I do like talking with you, and wouldn't mind doing it more," she laughed lightly. "It's not just you either, I am quiet for long stretches sometimes too, when I'm thinking. Anyway, I do not want you to force conversation, that would only be uncomfortable. Just…speak as you wish to."

"Yes, master. I find I enjoy talking with you too."

"I'm glad," Ceileigh said with a pleased smile. "Now how about eating downstairs tonight? I want something other than the same old salted rabbit," she suggested, laughing and rolling her eyes.

The blonde lady from earlier was in the dining room again, sitting alone this time with a bowl of stew and a cup of wine. The area wasn't very big, so Ceileigh and Leandor were still close to her even though they sat across the room. Ceileigh had no intention of talking to her, but within minutes the woman was trying to get her attention.

"Yoo-hoo! Do I know you?" she called from the far end of the long table behind them. She was dressed in the same short, dark grey dress as before. It ended at the knees and was unlaced at the top, revealing a very low-cut white shirt underneath, along with an ample amount of pale cleavage. She wore a dark yellow coat over the dress, that flared out at the waist and had short puffed sleeves. Ceileigh glanced at her briefly then turned back, rolling her eyes at Leandor.

"Does she displease you, master?" he asked curiously.

Ceileigh kept her voice low. She may not care for the woman, but there was no need to be openly rude. "Women like her irritate me because they rely on looks instead of skill to get them through life," she said with another eye roll.

"I do know you!" the woman continued. "Yes, you're from Cassardis!"

That got Ceileigh's attention and she turned. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you, and I know everyone from my hometown. Did you have dealings there in the past?"

"My route takes me there from time to time. I'm a traveling peddler, soon to be permanent shopkeeper. Madeleine is my name. Would you like to see some of my wares?"

Ceileigh turned back to Leandor for a moment. "Hold on, I'll be right back." She grudgingly got up and sat across from the peddler. If her dress has to be that short she at least covers herself with tights, and her boots look practical enough, she thought as she assessed the woman face to face.

"I'll look at what you have, but first tell me, have you been to Cassardis recently?" she asked.

"I haven't been there since before the dragon attacked. Not sure I want to go back if that's the kind of thing that happens there," the woman replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I was there when that happened. In fact I was the one who fought it. My stepfather died that day," Ceileigh said flatly, not liking how lightly Madeleine spoke of the tragedy.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that. I know real people are having to deal with the aftermath, yourself among them. I've seen you around here a time or two and was trying to remember where I'd seen you before. If you fought the dragon, you must be the Arisen everyone's talking about, eh?"

"That's me," Ceileigh said, spreading her hands as if graciously accepting the adoration of a crowd.

Madeleine chuckled. "A special discount then. Here is a sample of what I have," she said, lifting a large sack of goods onto the table. Soon they were in deep discussion about what curatives were best to bring on journeys and so on. Leandor watched the proceedings with interest as he ate, curious as to what new items his master would come away with. Even after Ceileigh was done buying, the two women talked for so long that her dinner went cold. Finally Madeleine left the inn, giving Leandor an appraising once-over as she passed, and Ceileigh returned to their table.

"Look at these boots!" Ceileigh said excitedly, holding one up for Leandor to see. The bottoms were lined with spiked steel, like a horseshoe with cleats.

"They appear useful for hand-to-hand combat," he noted, liking her enthusiasm.

"I ordered all kinds of curatives too, she'll bring them with her tomorrow. We're meeting for drinks after dinner. You know, if nothing comes up," she said, taking a bite of her food. "Oh - gross."

Leandor smiled again at the look on her face. "You talked for a long time," he said.

Ceileigh laughed and motioned for Asalam, who took her food away to be heated up. "Yes, I may have judged Madeleine incorrectly. Especially never having met her," she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, rolling her eyes at herself this time. Leandor thought it a very strange movement. "She is very smart and a successful businesswoman who started with literally nothing - she grew up in an orphanage - and is now about to open her own shop. She's only a little bit older than me too, five and twenty."

"Have you made another friend, then?"

"Perhaps," Ceileigh smiled thoughtfully as her plate was returned to the table. "She is much more sensible than she looks, and funny too. I suppose tomorrow will help me decide for sure."

That night Ceileigh lay awake a long time, thinking everything over, as she tended to whenever she hadn't had a day that made her drop with exhaustion. She was still discouraged and confused over her conversation with Ser Berne, and she was too embarrassed and angry to inquire further. Surprisingly though, her conversation with Madeleine had renewed her resolve. Though it was on a much smaller scale, the woman's story of overcoming the odds in her own life and her attitude of refusing to be beaten, had strengthened Ceileigh's determination not to give up.

One of her dagger handles was starting to come loose, and she needed a stronger pair anyway, so she should look into new ones as soon as possible. She wondered if Leandor would want new weapons, which got her thinking about the monsters they'd discussed. He'd said there was a different kind of harpy farther north, and bigger, more dangerous white wolves. From there her mind inevitably turned to his developing emotions, and the possibility of a relationship in the future. She sighed and closed her eyes, vowing not to dwell on that line of thought. For all she knew, he would never have full emotions, and even if he did, he may never think of her that way. Besides, she had only known him for a couple months, which was too soon to be thinking of him that way. Right? On top of that, he's not even human! Ceileigh snorted at her own foolishness, rolling toward the wall and willing herself to sleep.

Despite his stillness and even breathing, Leandor was doing some thinking of his own. He considered himself fortunate to be following this Arisen. He found her very kind, brave, and of good and strong character. He liked her enthusiasm and eagerness to learn. And he appreciated the friendly, compassionate way she treated him even though he was meant to be her servant. Overall, he found her enjoyable to be around, and interesting. At first he just wanted to assist the Arisen to the best of his ability, but now he looked forward to seeing this Arisen in particular every morning, and hearing what she had to say. Not only did he take care of her, now he cared about her. He supposed that was part of friendship.

As Ceileigh was dressing the next morning, she heard a small noise. "What was that?" she asked Leandor. She heard him walk across the room.

"'Tis an envelope, master. Someone just slipped it under the door. A letter, perhaps?" He opened the door and looked both ways down the hall, but no one was there so he shut it.

"Who is it from?"

"It is unmarked. Shall I open it?"

"Sure," she said, coming out. She wore a long sleeved burgundy shirt and her usual brown leggings and black boots. Leandor had the passing thought that the shirt color complimented her blue eyes and bright blonde hair very well, then his attention was back on the letter.

"It is from Ser Berne," he said with mild surprise.

"What?! What else could he have to say?"

"It says, 'Arisen, please accept my apology for yesterday's incident. My words were intentionally harsh, to drive you out of harm's way. With an unknown degree of danger to myself if I am discovered, I am compelled by my conscience and our friendship to tell you that your banishment from the training ground, and the discontinuation of our sessions, was not my wish. It was a command from my captain, who wishes to see you fail, and who I must obey. I, however, fully believe you are the Arisen, and that not helping you would be tantamount to supporting the dragon. Since I can no longer help you directly, I will guide you to those who can. Please seek out my acquaintance, Aleena. She lives a few doors down from the Black Cat, and will be expecting you. She will help you determine what magick skills you may have and teach you how to use them. Now let us all hope my captain does not find us out. Respectfully, Ser Berne."

Leandor was pleased to see Ceileigh beaming when he looked up. She really had quite a nice smile, and it made him smile in return.

"I should have known Berne would never act like this on his own! I'm so relieved," she said, putting a hand to her chest and flopping down to sit on her bed. Then she shook her head. "And Mercedes…what an absolute fucking bitch! Can't she see anything past her own schemes? I can't believe she would risk the entire nation, maybe the world, for her own glory!"

Leandor's eyes widened slightly at her outburst and foul language. It had been some time since she'd been mad enough to curse, although he remembered her warning a past pawn that she did it a lot. He supposed circumstances hadn't warranted it for quite a while, in which case they were lucky. On the upside, the Arisen's words showed confidence in herself.

After breakfast they set out immediately to find Aleena, getting directions to the Black Cat from a woman selling vegetables in Fountain Square. On the way there, Ceileigh suddenly remembered something she'd been wanting to ask Leandor. "When we were in the Witchwood, you started to tell me something, didn't you? About that girl Selene? And I never got around to asking you what."

"Yes. I do not know the import of it, but she felt…familiar. As if I knew her from a long time ago, but I do not know if it is true. It was almost as if we had a connection I could sense inside - it is hard to explain."

Ceileigh wondered briefly if the girl was a pawn since pawns could sense one another, but dismissed the idea since Selene said the witch was her grandmother, which made her human of course. "Hmmm…well, perhaps if we ever see her again we can figure it out. I'm sure it's not important right this minute, but we can keep it in mind."

A few minutes later they found the Black Cat, which they discovered was a shop specializing in rare items. If they didn't have it, the shopkeeper proudly told her, they could make one just like it. Ceileigh thought it all seemed shady and decided not to browse. Instead they started down the street, looking for Aleena's house. A woman suddenly popped out of a doorway four houses down, and motioned them over. She was quite short, slim everywhere and had long hair so red it was almost orange. She carried a brown staff of unidentifiable make.

"You must be Ceileigh," said the woman, smiling.

"And you must be Aleena. Let me guess, fire affinity?" Ceileigh joked, pointing at her hair.

"How witty, I've never heard that one before," Aleena said, but good-naturedly and with an amused twinkle in her eye, and both women laughed. "Well, I can already sense the magick in you. Please, come in and we'll see what your situation is."