I woke with the Sun, stretching carefully as the light brightened enough to see. The camp was already stirring on its own. I carefully turned my head and met the gaze and impish smile of the Countess Phine. Said gaze and smile were very close.

I could not suppress my startlement, however, I managed to avoid giving offense by shout or scramble.

The Countess thrust our her bottom lip. "Good morn, lady Kath."

"Good morn, Countess Lirisphine."

We were alone on the Countess's padded blanket, accommodations that were more comfortable than the cold ground upon which it lay. Another such blanket was atop us to ward the morning chill. 

I rose to find the others also greeting the dawn. Most were more surly at it, however.

"Ugh, Lady Kath, how can you be awake this early?" Eadric asked with a yawn.

"I could ask you the same," I stated.

"My answer will doubtless be different than yours, however, Lady Kath. For I... stood watch in the small hours to ensure that we would be safe. Therefore I did not truly wake with the dawn."

"Verily, Lady Kath shows good sense in rising early; there is much to be admired about such habits, which all peasants share," The Countess Phine stated with prim weight loading her words.

I was unaware a watch had been set. 

"Is there aught I may do to help?"

Eadric gazed upon the camp. "Focus on your learning. Mundane camp chores are not the province of quality. I and the Count's men will see to things."

Speaking of the Count, he was still abed in his pallet and judging from the soft snores, still asleep as the camp revived itself around him. I could not fathom how.

His new squire, the little count, was making the bracing morning tea favored by most in the kingdom as a common cure for minor ailments like morning malaise' I resolved to stay away from it, for he was doing a poor job of the task.

One of the soldiers gave what appeared to be a gentle kick, but the little count fell over from the impact, almost landing within the fire. "Too much mandra root, squire. You'll make the brew as a syrup."

The little count muttered something but replied: "Thank you, sir."

Which drew him another rebuke, this one hissed with venom: "Quiet! Your master deserves his sleep."

The Countess Phine drew up beside me, watching. "You know, we also could have stayed abed. We were up quite late with very hard work."

I had found the learning tedious, but not difficult. There was error in such a confession, however.

"I could not," was the best answer I could provide without offense.

The Countess Phine hum'd and stated: "You will learn. Some of our duties require us to be awake when all honest folk are abed. But perhaps it is too soon for such sloth. Now, can you show me how well you've learned? The ball or the book, as you please."

I chose the ball, as all her lessons promptly fled at her urging that I repeat them.

I tried to shut the world away, to feel what the Countess wanted me to feel, but I could not. I finally admitted failure when Eadric walked his demon horse to me.

"It's time to go, Lady Kath."

The Countess stood, her book in hand. "Do not worry young Kath, you will find it. I've never known one to get the calling and fail this task."

That was a comfort. "Thank you for your kind words, Countess."

"Come, Lady Kath. Today Gern and I decided you were to ride first."

Gern looked as if he came to no such conclusion. 

"Come Lady Kath, I will be guiding him; he will not hurt you."

My backside said otherwise. But I climbed upon the demon's back; duty was what it was.

Eadric slung my bag again, but I kept my canteen and the globe, and in turn, the globe kept my focus for some time.

I felt something. I knew not what it was, but there was something. By the time Gern stopped in the road, I was certain of it.

"Come lady Kath, it is time for the noon meal." Gern, for his part, gave a warning buck.

"Certainly." I slid from the animals back. There was a moment of clumsiness as Eadric attempted not to touch the ball still in my hand; he recovered and caught my canteen instead.

I, on the other hand, managed to catch myself; this time the demon beast did not move to spill me to the ground.

"That was cruel, Lady Kath." Eadric accused, levering himself to his feet.

"I am sorry Sir Eadric, but I do not understand." 

I reached out to help him; he ignored the attempt.

"No, Lady Kath, I am in mail and while I am sure you are quite strong, you cannot support my weight."

He then gave me a piercing stare. "You do not know what offense you've given, do you?"

"I do not." I was forced to admit. 

One of the other armsmen laughed and said: "Tis the orb in your hand, Lady. Some fear to touch the baubles of power for fear it may take what all they are very attached to. A silly superstition, I had not counted Eadric among such august ranks, but it seems I was wrong."

That made some sense; I would have refused also, before. "My apologies then, Sir Eadric. I meant no offense or ill will."

Eadric struck his helm once, sharply; it made a wonderful note. "Now, none of that. My apologies for such behavior. I grew up in a village not unlike your own, and while I have grown more worldly, the teachings of the past oft prove hard to leave there."

And then he sank to one knee in a clatter. I felt more than the sun's heat upon my face. "Please get up, Sir Eadric."

"Not until you forgive me, Lady Kath."

"You are forgiven then. Please be more courteous in the future."

Eadric looked up, his face earnest. "I shall endeavor to do so, Lady Kath."

"You may start by rising, as you are causing a delay." Indeed everyone in the party was now watching us. Some with more amusement than others.

"So it would seem," Eadric stated without remorse, rising swiftly and securing my belongings. "Up you go, Lady Kath."

I was able to get upon Gern without direct help, and seated myself to the Countess Phine's tastes. 

"We should make the hamlet of Lelix later this afternoon, Lady Kath. Have you been there before?"

As a child I had passed through the town on pilgrimage with my father; I would not call it a 'hamlet.' "I have once. There was no purpose in any further visits."

"The pilgrimage then?" The Count Warren asked.

I nodded. "We are devout, my father and I."

"Good lass," The Count approved. "All should make the pilgrimage, even once."

I could not disagree, though I could count some among those I knew who had not. Perhaps my emergence and the proofs of such would bring those into the capital.

"We will not arrive, if we do not set out," The Countess Phine stated curtly from her own horse. 

The Count Warren winced. "You are correct, Countess. Let us be about leaving then. Move out!"

There was a scramble as the Count's men jumped to obey. For my part, I focused on my own duty, and the ball once again in my hand.

The globe promptly changed color in response, from it's multiple colored surface to brown shot with some shades of green. It appeared as nothing more than a ball of gently moving mud.

"Pardon, Countess Phine. Is this normal? Was this what you expected?" I showed her the orb; it no longer glinted in the sunlight.

The Countess all but fell from her horse. She recovered rapidly, however, and moved her horse so close Gern tried to shy. "Did you feel anything?"

"No, I did not. I simply took the globe and it changed as soon as my mind was upon it," I of a sudden was no longer willing to confess that I had felt something the night before.

"Well the colors are good, they are very good," The Countess exclaimed. "Do you know what they mean?"

I simply looked at her. How was I to know that? I hadn't even known the colors could change. Hadn't I been attempting to summon light from within it? 

"Ah. Well, the colors correspond to the type of power used; and in this case, they would suggest what type of power you is most natural to you. It has attuned itself to you, and far more quickly than I thought possible."

So... that was good, right? "And what are the ramifications of this?"

The Countess promptly pulled away. "Ah... I do not wish to taint your understanding, so it is best I say nothing in regards to such. However, I can say that nothing bad can come of this. By all means, please continue; try to change the color or use the bauble to create light, if you can. Focus on the feeling you have for such."

A simple thought caused the stone to change to gray, and the Countess Phine's breath caught. I felt the sensation as light spilled forth... for a moment. Then it grew dark and as mud again. 

"Ah, do not pout my dear Lady Kath; you are learning quite quickly," the Countess replied to my sigh, before holding out her book. "I think we shall switch to reading, as it will be far more useful than you suspect very soon."

I took it. "As you say."

"Now if you will read aloud please, from the start."

I did so, with the Countess correcting my errors. At least once I heard laughter at my failure of understanding, from the back of our line, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. 

Some time later and many pages in the light faded, just as the 'hamlet' of Lelix.

It was far larger than I remembered; with a palisade and what must be fifty homes or more. The main road was raised above the mud, and made of split logs with no sign of rot. The people out and about, hurrying to some errand or another were more richly dressed than most commoners I had seen and bore an important air.

There was bunting placed upon the palisade, and festive decorations lining the homes and places of work. The Blacksmith, a large man with a fearful demeanor, had almost buried his smithy under such. His face cracked into a smile as I walked by. All moved aside and watched us pass, and many fell in behind us as we passed.

We stopped at the green before the inn, before some richly dressed older folk sporting wide smiles. The one who stepped forward was an older man, just beginning to gray and wrinkle. He was dressed in multi-hued garments, both shirt and hose, and wore gleaming black boots.

"Welcome back Countess, Count. I see that your mission was a success. While it grieves me that our humble town could not provide you with our own, it pleases me to know you need not return empty-handed.

"I've no doubt of the sincerity of your words and that of your people, good mayor. You have always provided for us, and will do so again. But for now, let the festivities commence at your earliest convenience."

Festivities? What festivities were these? The selection was already over. Eadric standing beside me, saw my confusion and whispered: "In the rest of the kingdom, the selection festival continues until the newly discovered sorceresses return to the capital. So while your village only celebrates a day, others can celebrate for many."

But that would mean for some the gaiety could last a ten-day or even more!

"And who might our new champion of the realm be? I must admit I do not recognize the face."

The mayor's stare was piercing, and his hands were slathered in grease. 

I hesitated, and the Countess answered for me. "This is young Kath Thorinson, from Vard."

"Of course, how does the day find you, young Lady Kath?" The smile on the man strained around my name. 

His bow was genuine. "I am pleased to meet you, Mayor..."

"Rett." The Countess whispered.

"...Rett." I finished as smoothly as possible.

The mayor politely ignored the fiction. His bows to the Countess Phine and Count Warren were deeper, of course. And in at least one occasion completely ignored.

"I'll take your innkeeper's best rooms, Mayor. Please see to the feast arrangements as well."

Thus ordered directly, even a worthy like the mayor could not refuse. "I'll see to it, Count Warren." 

His seeing to it consisted of hurried whispers to the other villagers behind him. They moved with alacrity, and soon we had chairs, heavy ornate things, placed to our rear on a raised platform pieced together from close-fitting smaller parts. There were three chairs in the center, with several others left to the slightly lower sides of the arrangement. 

The Countess guided me to her left while Count Warren took her right; Eadric sat to my left and put on a stern visage, all but glaring at those scurrying about, and Halith took Count Warren's right, his alert gaze passing over those on that side of the green and beyond.

The mayor slid past and into a chair under Halith's gaze with a woman who could be the village wise woman... or his wife; I could not be sure.

On the other side of Eadric, the blacksmith sat, still ruddy from the forge. He ducked his head in deference as my gaze met his. It was only a hiss from Eadric that stopped my instinctive but incorrect response. The smith was much larger than expected at this distance.

At least the good smith did not look uneasy in my presence.

A moment later another man sat next to the smith, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. He was a young man but tanned and lined, and dressed in forest green. He had a large knife at his belt and no other weapons, but he walked with the easy grace that I'd learned marked a warrior. From the way Eadric sized him and the way he ignored it, a skilled warrior.

Or perhaps an arrogant one.

"Good day, Lady. I hope you enjoy the hospitality of Lelix, and remember us fondly upon the end of your journey."

"I am certain that I will, Sir. I am Kath Thorinson, may I ask who you are, to offer such well wishes?"

I must not have tripped over myself overmuch there, as neither Eadric or Countess Phine attempted to correct my speech.

"Ah, how rude of me Lady Thorinson, my apologies. I am Alif, a craftsman of this town. I have a pottery kiln, know my way around both ax and adze, and manage a shop. In my spare time, I have been known to seek out game at our Lord's pleasure."

He left out a significant part of his past, I felt sure.

"And I am Xil the smith," The smith stated after a pause. "If you would like any metal work done, I would be happy to provide, free of charge."

I looked to the large man's ruddy face and knew I could not trouble him so. "Thank you, good smith, but my needs are quite small and have been met for the moment. Should that change, I will, of course, come to you. Alif, you mentioned work as a woodcutter; do you perhaps know my father, Donja?"

"Ah, as I thought. I do indeed know your father, Lady Thorinson. In truth many here do, if only by reputation alone."

That sounded ominous. "Do you know him by reputation alone, sir?"

Alif sat back with a small smile. "I do not. I have in fact met your father - he provided some advice on how to best work wood which even now I have engraved upon my heart. He helped me more than he knew on his way to settle in Vard, with a tiny bundle that could only be you strapped to his back. We met a few times since then to discuss business matters."

"I have met the man as well," Xil the smith said. "But only the once. He seemed a fine one to me."

Should I, or should I not. I decided not, as I had no memory of this man. I would find another way and failing that, the mail service in the kingdom had a long and storied history of being most reliable in their treatment of parcels.

The tables were placed in front of us by men of the village without a word; men who were less brilliantly dressed than those which greeted us. Men who left as soon as it was possible to do so without giving offense or stirring the alarm. They returned with tables for themselves, a sight I was relieved to see.

Women with much the same demeanor came after, laying out large crockware plates upon which heaps of food sat; it was a wonder none of the elegantly painted finery broke under the strain. 

Conrad appeared, loaded with crockery himself, and placed plates and silverware before us, with myself first. He averted his gaze from my own and said not a word. Eadric on the other hand had much to say:

"That's a good lad, Conrad. Bring us all some wine, will you?"

I looked to the center table, they already had plates and cups themselves, and were discussing some heated matter among themselves; the mayor seemed hesitant to add is opinion. I could not hear more than the occasional word myself due to the angle of certain heads and the noises of revelry.

Conrad left, but his grumbling as he departed I heard well enough. Eadric ignored it, however, so I did as well. 

The generalities of the situation made me uneasy, however. "Shouldn't Squire Conrad be serving his master?"

"Of course," Eadric replied. "And he will. But unfortunately there are a shortage of quality willing to serve at table, and as young Conrad needs to practice, the duty to serve us all is his alone tonight."

"I see." That did not bode well for someone, Conrad had a vile temper. But he could not act upon such impulses among present company for obvious reasons. That would have to be check enough.

Conrad soon returned with large jacks filled with honey-mead and plates of meats, cheeses, and fruits. The meat was a still steaming cut of succulent diffyr mixed with paka, with not a fish to be seen. The cheese was cawa, a sharp aged cheese which I had only seen twice before. The fruit was a much more local apa; expensive but easily found.

"I apologize, it seems our hosts are out of wine, the best I could uncover was a honey mead from the local distillery set for shipment to the capital."

Eadric scowled at him but winked as Conrad bowed his head. "It will have to do, I suppose. How say you, Lady?"

I had never had honey mead before; the jack before me contained a month of my father's wages. "Truthfully I have no knowledge of the vintage."

Conrad made a noise that could have been a cough. Eadric ignored it, so I did as well. "You are in for a treat then, Lady. The honey makes the drought smooth, even at lower temperatures; there is no bitterness at all."

It was true, but the brew was potent. More potent than anything in my experience, though the extent was yet to be determined. I resolved to let my father's example guide me and stay at one jack lest I be useless tomorrow. The diffyr was roasted to perfection and rubbed with herbs to bring out flavor. Chasing a bite of the meat down with a slice of apa proved a wonderful experience, which was made more favorable when the cawa was added.

Using the knife and fork kept the lion's share of the mess from one's hands and lips. I would have wished for a slice of bread to sop up the juices, but a glance told me none other at table was doing such, and I had no wish to trouble Conrad with a personal request; he was among us to serve, refilling jacks and fetching dishes as asked, but his face was thunderous.

I was beginning to doubt his face could be anything else, as he had run out of children to torment.

Perhaps that was uncharitable of me. I should strive to better illuminate.

The Mayor cleared his throat. "So, Lady Thorinson, if I may ask without presuming overmuch, why did you decide to join the order?"

"Duty," I answered immediately. Conrad snorted from his corner and Count Warren leveled him a heavy glare.

"Well spoken," The Mayor responded. "We have had a marked shortage of those willing to sacrifice for the kingdom lately. Why, a few short years ago, a man from this very village was selected, and he elected not to answer the call! Can you imagine?"

The Mayor himself looked foreign to sacrifice. "No sir, I cannot."

"Now good Mayor, a man's choice regarding selection is just that; his choice. The reasons of each potential candidate to accept or deny their calling are their own, and to be respected. The kingdom has yet to fall so far as to adopt the policies of the empire."

The mayor paled while I tried to cast about for signs of shame. I found none. 

"Countess, I never meant to imply such!" The mayor protested in a scandalized voice that rang genuine to my ears. "I merely sought greater understanding into the motivation of today's youth."

"Then I hope I have provided the insight you sought," I interjected.

"Indeed you have, Lady Thorinson. May you be blessed for such a ready response." The mayor graciously stated before involving himself in his meal once again.

Countess Phine squeezed my thigh gently and gave a smile before following suit.

"So... Thorinson, eh?" The Xil the smith probed.

"Indeed sir, I am of the line of Thorin, as my father before me." My ancestors were in many of the tales of the kingdom's early years - a time of mighty deeds and wonders long past.

"To your health then, lass. An honorable line, and one I am glad to see still survives." The Smith raised his jack and I did likewise. We drank to the survival and death of a line.

"Good health, and long life, Lady Thorinson." Alif said, and we drank to that as well. Afterward, the conversation turned to more personally pleasant topics.