Tides of Destiny

~FanFic~

I do not own Valdamar, its Heralds, Companions or the world that houses them. Those remain the sole property of the amazingly talented Mercedes Lackey. Dagenheart, however, is 100% mine.



Chapter 1
A Meeting Of Sorts

The dim candles in the common room were in desperate need of trimming. Their flames flickered back and worth, casting morphing shadows in the corners of the room. The room itself was sealed so tightly that the collecting smoke given off by the candles stung the eyes and itched the nose. Dagenheart sat at the far end of the old, wooden table with her cards held inches from her nose and arrayed in a perfect fan shape. Her raven black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, constrained by a ubiquitous red ribbon. She glanced at the two aging mercs sharing the table with her. Shadron’s eyes were darting from one card to another and the lines on his forehead stood out as he calculated the odds. Frickel, who was seated to her right, wore a smug look that told her he had a trick or two in his hand. Shadron discarded a queen of knaves and grumbled about the unfairness of life. Frickel considered his cards for a moment and then drew two from the deck. He laid down a book of fours and three more aces, then discarded a duce.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Dagenheart asked.
Frickel just shrugged and smiled.
Dagenheart drew and laid down two sets of fours and discarded a three.
This game had been going on for two hours without a notable winner coming forward. While the game was going though, Dagenheart was able to keep her mind from dwelling on the sudden shift in friendship between the three. They had not forsaken the young mage yet, but Dagenheart was no fool. Crazy yes, but sharper then she pretended. Their friendship was an accident anyway. Working side by side on a battlefield where even those of your standard could not be trusted, they had forged a shaky alliance that twisted into friendship. Not often are so radically different people able to bear each other’s company. It is doubly true when it comes to sword-swingers and spell-flingers. She knew very little about their profession and her powers disturbed them; Frickel more so then Shadron. He didn’t understand them at all and would never take the time to do so no matter how much his mage friend tried to teach him. They had each befriended mages in their time before, but had never gotten as close as they had with Dagenheart. Obviously though, they weren’t as close as she had thought for with the start of the war, mercs were pouring into the kingdom by the hundreds. Shadron and Frickel were making acquaintances with many of them. Two in particular had gotten to know all three of them very well. However, these new mercs were just as shy about magic and that left Dagenheart on the outside in many of their conversations. Since meeting so many people who shared their interests so closely, her friends had broken ties with all their mage friends save for her. 'Maybe I should remove the new friends from the picture'. She thought darkly as she placed a book of fives down and discarded another three. She shook the notion away just as quickly as it had come. That was not her way. Besides, she enjoyed these old swords’ company. They were funny and compassionate as long as you weren’t on the wrong end of their blades, and she wanted nothing but the best for them. Even if that meant removing herself from the painting so they could continue with those more suitable. <You knew this was going to be a hard road once you turned from the Shadow Lord. It is always too tempting to fall back into the old, wicked ways>, she told herself. Frickel sighed and looked her dead in the eye. She stared back impassively.  He passed his hand over several of his cards before finally tossing an eight on the table.
“Ha! That got you.” She snickered as she picked up the discards and shuffled them into her hand. She proceeded to lay out four more books and a slew of other cards before tossing a queen down.
“A Lady for you if you want her.” She teased at Shadron. He just grumbled and drew. He wasn’t wining and was getting cranky. She knew everything in life must come to an end eventually and perhaps now was the time to move on. It was as if the gods themselves were pushing her away from everything familiar. Forcing her to drink deeply of the cup of change; a most cold and bitter ale. She knew from her scrying that it was an ending of an age in her life and the beginning of a new one. Something new was coming for her and she feared it. Feared it more then that day when she stood in front of the Arcane Mirror and reclaimed her soul from the Shadow Lord so many years ago. She knew she could withstand whatever the Fates threw at her. She had endured terrible trials and somehow always came out on top. She was strong and imbued with a tempered will. Yet, she was not ready for another change. Not yet. 'All life is change. If you are not ready to change then you are not ready to live'. Her teacher’s words came back to her mind and she could see the dark-haired woman smirking at her. She never did like that proverb and her teacher knew it. That’s why she always insisted on using it. <How much more do I have to give before I reach my goals? How long must I lay on the altar of self-sacrifice?> Her mind-voice was edged with bitterness. <Until your debts are paid'> Came the reply of her own making. She shuddered slightly at the thought. In her short life she had accrued a list of moral debts longer then most elders. At the pinnacle of her power she was the cruelest of all the Shadow Lord’s commanders. She would be atoning for her acts till she died from old age.
“Pay Attention!” Frickel said, slapping the tabletop.
She looked down to see a discarded six. She debated on picking it up but choose to draw instead. A five and an eight. Damn. The only two cards she didn’t have a match for in her hand. She counted the cards on the table quickly and tossed out the eight.
“Lost in thought were we?” Frickle chided.
“Somewhat, yes.” She replied smoothly.
“Figuring on anything worthwhile?” Shadron asked without taking his eyes from his cards.
“Just considering the relation of sterility and mercs.” She teased.
Shadron grumbled something about the relation between egos and sorcery.
Dagenheart just laughed, relieved that they couldn’t read minds. She played the rest of the hand out in silence. When Frickle laid down his cards and won, she downed her mug of beer and stood up.
“As much as I would love to entertain to drunk old swords, I must be getting back to my charges. I have a feeling the hour is much later then any of us realize.” She began seeing to her cloak and gloves.
“Drunk, maybe. Old, never!” Shadron replied.
“I seem to recall two ‘old swords’ that kept an Imperial Shriten from impaling a certain young mage.” Frickle arched an eyebrow as he spoke.
“And they’ve been sorry ever since.” Shadron added with a smile.
“Well I had to let you feel useful somehow. After all, wasn’t someone complaining about that ‘certain young mage’ killing more then her quota of Imperials?”  She eyed Shadron. He scoffed and took another pull from his beer.
“You guys be good.” She said sternly, “I don’t want to bail you out of the brig again.”
They rattled off a few lies and idle threats and before she knew it she was standing on the cold, dark street outside the tavern. She closed her eyes, savoring the sound of the crowd inside. She had a feeling that she might not ever see the two of them again. She would not wait for them to abandon her. Her eyes watered a bit and a lone tear ran down her cheek. That was all she could shed. One lone tear from one lone girl. She steadied her emotions and set off into the dark and cold of the night. She walked along the shadowed streets, void of people. It was almost like she was the last person in the world. As the soles of her boots clacked loudly on the cobblestone street, her mind returned to it’s sullen state. She decided as she walked that she’d leave the kingdom; go south maybe. She could forget all about the wars and the lost friends. Besides, these Valdamarians were a little too strange for her. Never before had she seen a kingdom of people so at peace with each other. It was unnerving. Then there were the Heralds who were distinctly odd. She had only ever seen two of them, each in their blindingly white uniforms, astride white horses; each on the battle field where they proved most formidable. She knew that every Herald possessed some kind of mind-magic, but none held any true sorcery.
         The arrival of a new set of steps behind her caught her attention. It sounded like a horse but had an odd metallic ring. She stopped. The noise stopped seconds after her. The fingers on her left hand slowly danced in a complex rhythm. She felt the energy building around her and started walking. As she had guessed, the metal hooves began following her again. Dagenheart’s heart quickened as her pace increased. The spell was ready, all she needed now was the target. She extended a sorcerous sense behind her and touched something that radiated power. In fear, she whirled and flung out one hand in a warding gesture. Something like a ghost steed loamed out of the darkness. A horse as pale as a corpse. No rider. No saddle or bridle. Just a horse. She caught the energy of the spell just in time as it went to leave her hand and pushed it into the ground under her feet. The horse stopped and whickered, startled. It’s blue eyes seemed to glow the faintest and held a mischievous intelligence.
Oh-oh.
She knew what this horse was. It was one of those special breed horses the Heralds rode. Champions or something. Relieved, she turned and continued her walk, but the horse continued to tail her. She stopped again and let out a sigh of annoyance. Turning she said, “What are you doing? Go away. Stop following me.” She made a ‘shewing’ motion with both hands. The last thing she need was for some guardsman to she her traipsing around town with a. . . Herald horse. It was her understanding that only Heralds could ride these white beasts and she didn’t need the kingdom thinking she was stealing royal horses.
         The horse didn’t move, just stared at her in a way that made her think it was laughing at her.
“Here, you want something to eat.” She said pulling a bit of bread out of her pouch in hopes of lulling the horse from following her. She tossed it on the ground in front of it but it only sniffed it and gave her a weird look. She turned and took two steps which were echoed by metallic hooves. She closed her eyes for a second and then whirled and let loose a spell that held the horse completely immobile. Surprise and fear radiated from it’s eyes as she turned and continued her journey to the small boarding house that she called home.

It was well past dawn when she was awakened by a rapping on her door.
“Ma’am?” A voice boomed.
She rolled over and pulled herself into a sitting position. “Enter.”
The door clicked open and in stepped on of her servants.
“Pardon ma’am but there is someone her to see you.”
This caught her off guard.
“Huh? Who?” She asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
“A – A Herald.” The man stammered.
Oh damnit! She shook her head and pulled the covers back, “Tell him I’ll be down shortly.” The servant nodded and vanished, closing the door as he left. Dagenheart busied herself getting into her clothes. She was not a morning person in the least bit and she couldn’t fathom at first why a Herald would be looking for her. Then she remember the horse from last night. <Great, someone probably stole them damn thing while it was immobile.> She opened the door to her room and walked down the small hallway to the common room, fastening her belt as she went. Her hair was a wreck but she wasn’t looking to impress anyone. As she entered the common room she saw the Herald standing near the bar talking to the barkeep.
“Something I can do for you sir?” Dagenheart asked with a sarcasm, as she walked up to him.
The Herald turned to her and looked her up and down, “Are you the sorceress Dagenheart?”
“Yes.” She said flatly.
The Herald, who looked like he had seen quite a bit of combat, drew himself up a bit.
“It has been made known to us that you used magic against a Companion last night.”
The barkeep gobbled air in horror and looked at Dagenheart like she had grown a third eye.
“Yes, it was a holding spell. Till someone could come and lead it back to the stables.” She said nonchalantly. “You guys should really keep a better eye on your horses instead of letting them run loose around town.”
The Herald looked at her for a moment, frowning. He was not hearing what he expected.
“But the Companion was following you, wasn’t he?” He asked.
“Yes, like I said maybe you want to build a better barn for them. Next person that gets stalked down the street by one might just decide to ‘borrow’ it.
The Heralds lips twitched into a smile as he restrained his laugh. He now realized that Dagenheart knew next to nothing about Companions. The barkeep grew more distressed by the events. Apparently casting spells on horses was big beef with these Valdamarians.
“So have I broken some law or something?” Dagenheart asked with some annoyance. She wanted something to eat and maybe, gods willing, a good stiff morning ale. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a length of red ribbon and proceeded to tie her midnight black hair into a ponytail while she awaited the Heralds answer.
The question seemed too difficult for the older man.
“Maybe you should just come with me to the Palace. I can show you what is going on better then I can tell you.”
“Uh huh, look Herald. . .” she waited for his name.
“Herald Jays.” He said.
“Look Jays, you need not even concern yourself with me. I’m just passing through your kingdom. Unless the animal was hurt, I see reason to create conflict.”
“I don’t think you understand.” Jays said with a smile, “You have been Chosen.” His smile broadened like that explained everything.
“Ok, whatever the hell that means. It’s been nice meeting you.” Dagenheart moved around the Herald to get to the food sitting on the table beside the fireplace. Being chosen sounded way to cult-like for her and these Heralds were strange anyway.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” Jays asked.
“Not a clue.” She answered. To the barkeep, “Get me a mug of that strong ale, would ya.”
“You have been Chosen to. . . have the horse. He’s yours.”
Dagenheart looked at him with her eyes narrowed. That didn’t even sound right. There had to be a demon in the details somewhere.
“Ok. Fine. Go saddle him up and bring him here. I’ll be leaving within the next two candlemarks.
“He is waiting for you right now, outside.” He motioned towards the door.
This was all making Dagenheart very uncomfortable. Nobody goes around giving free horses away at random. She led the way to the door and stepped outside. As promised, there was the horse. It whickered and shook it’s head at her.
“Dagenheart, this is Elrin.” Jays said as he came outside.
Dagenheart just looked at the horse. It was radiant. It’s entire body seemed to pulse with power. Then she felt something push against her shielding. It took her a moment to realize that it was a probe from the horse. Shocked, she took a step back. The horse seemed to sense the barrier and it’s power and it’s head shot up, ears forward. A moment later the Herald looked shocked, “Your shields are alarmingly different from what we’ve encountered. Elrin says he cannot penetrate them.” He stammered.
Elrin said?
The horses were telepaths evidently. That was what she felt hit her shields. She slowly manipulated the energies of her shielding to allow the horse a small strand of communication.
::Hello Dagenheart. Like Jays said, I am Elrin and I Chose you.::
Dagenheart looked deep into those blue eyes as she listened to the young male voice talk in her mind. She felt a bond forming with him. A bond stronger then a thousand swords. A bond that took two souls and made them one. A radiant light flowed through her unimpeded; fueling her power and soul until it reached the tainted energies she still carried. The energies that she had been scared with by the Shadow Lord himself. She kept it shielded with her most powerful magics, afraid that it might burst forth and consume her. The light mixed with darkness and flowed back into both souls. She felt Elrin try to pull away before the shadowed energy reached him. He was too late. With a neigh and a whimper he backed away from Dagenheart.
“Elrin! Your mane!” Jays shouted in disbelief as a wide stripe of black crept down the upper half of the horse’s mane.
At the same instant Dagenheart felt the ‘gray’ energy pour into her. She felt something akin to a cyclone of energy whirling around inside her. She backed away from the horse till she could lean against the outside of the inn. She felt dizzy and though she tried to fight against it, unconsciousness enveloped her.

Strange dreams danced across Dagenheart’s mind until sometime late in the evening the next day. Dreams of pristine forest lakes and thunderous storms. Of mountains exploding and spewing forth molten rock. Demons. Dragons. Angels and men. She awoke confused, frightened and extremely thirsty. She felt as weak as a newborn kitten. She tried to lift her arm but the effort proved to great. Her mind was a boil with a million different thoughts and memories. Some seemed rational and true while others seemed fantastic or just plain strange.
         Slowly she opened her eyes and gazed with suspicion at the room she was in. It wasn’t wealthy by any means but it was more then she had had since her tenure with evil. Atop the desk to her right was all of her meager belongings she had left at the boarding house. A large glass door to her left that opened onto some gardens bathed the room in golden sunlight.
         Panic began to stir in her gut. She could not remember how she had got here or anything really.
::Do not panic my Chosen. Your are safe for now, though you have gotten us both in quite a bit of trouble.::
The voice shocked her at first but she recalled hearing it before. Then it all came back to her in a flood that made her head ache.
:: What exactly do you mean by trouble, horse?:: She asked. She hadn’t used her mind-speech in years but she was still able to puzzle it out.
::We Companions chose only the pure of heart to be Heralds. It has been this way for centuries until now.:: The emotion in his mind-voice made it obvious he laid the guilt squarely at her feet.
::Look horse. I didn’t do anything. You’re the one that came stalking me. I never asked to be picked and if you have some crazy notion that I’m going to be a Herald. . . ::: The idea overwhelmed her so much that she couldn’t continue. Her a Herald? In the name of the gods, why?
::We shall see soon enough. They have been discussing the issue in council for the last six hours but they are breaking up now. Do you feel alright. Do you need anything?::
She went to rant and rave but the genuine concern in Elrin’s voice when he inquired about her hit a soft spot. A soft spot that hadn’t existed before.
::That’s because the darkness that lurked in you has been. . . diluted by the light that was in me.:: He sent, reading her thoughts.
Dagenheart caught the past tense.
::Was?::
::Yes, was. In consequence my energy was mixed with yours. This has never happened before and the other Heralds and Companions don’t know what to make of it.:: He snickered a bit as if the idea was somehow slightly amusing. 
::And tell me horse, this is my fault how? This is a good example of why you don’t go around the kingdom kidnapping people to serve in your police force.:: She felt her strength returning and began to move her legs over the side of the bed. As she set up something hard restrained her wrist. A chain.
::First of all, quit calling me horse! My name is Elrin and yes you have been chained to your bed but only to keep you from wondering off. I informed the others of your ‘free spirit’ ways. A Healer is on the way and should be there soon::
As he said it there was a knock on the door and then it opened. A woman wearing a green dress and long silver hair came in.
“Good your awake. How do you feel?”
“Like a prisoner. Got any water?” Dagenheart responded with venom.
“Yes, I’ll get you some.” The Healer said, ignoring her tone. She walked to the small table across the room which held two glasses and a decanter of water that Dagenheart had overlooked somehow.
“You got a name?” Dagenheart asked while the green-clad woman pour the water into a glass.
“Aladria.” She said passing the water. She went to say something but there was a frantic knock on the door. “Excuse me.” She whispered as she turned to the door and went out into the hall.
         Dagenheart could hear raised voices out in the hall but could not tell what was being said. After a few moments she asked Elrin.
::That would be the King’s Own Herald out there in the hall with several other Heralds, including the Seneschal’s. They want to talk to you, do not fear. They want to find out what happened.::
For some reason Dagenheart trusted the Companion but before she could give it much thought one way or the other the Healer had reappeared.
“Do you feel up to some visitors? Some of the Heralds have some questions about what happened yesterday.”
::You do not have to if you don’t want to my dear. Just have Aladria run them off.:: Elrin told her.
“Show them in. The sooner I get this over with the sooner I can leave this place.”
The Healer looked at her funny as she said it, then went to invite the Heralds in. They came in with a rush and in a gaggle. Dark blue-clad guards backed them. At the front was a tall, well aged man with a solemn expression. He looked like you could soak him in water and squeeze him dry and still not have enough humor to fill a thimble. His hair was short and the color of slate and his uniform seemed a tad fancier then the other Heralds. To his right and left was a pair of male Heralds that looked damn near identical. The only difference being the one on the left had a scar running down one of his cheeks. Each had raven hair like hers but only shoulder length. Their faces were thin and their features sharp. To Dagenheart they looked eerily sinister. As they approached her she readied a quiver of quick and non-lethal spells. As she did so she felt Elrin trying to stop her.
::That is not necessary. They are not here to harm you.::
Trust him though she did, she still felt better with a few spells ready in a moments instant.
“Dagenheart I presume.” The gray haired man said with a rather flat voice.
“Who else would I be? Who are you?” She snapped, already getting defensive.
“I am Fryn, Herald to the King. This is Alairus and Alairo.” He gestured first to the left and then to the right, introducing the twins.
With the introductions out of the way Fryn didn’t seem to know what to say. He looked at Alairus who just shrugged, then after a pause in which he seemed to be listening to something only he could hear, he spoke, “It seems that you have been chosen by a Companion.” It was obvious by the look on his face that that had sounded better in his head.
“Yeah, I kind of figured that out already from the voice inside my head.” Dagenheart growled. “Lets get to the basics here. First, am I in trouble?”
The twins’ eyes shot up in surprise of her brunt manner. They each looked the Fryn.
“No. You are not in trouble but something has. . .”
“Good, then if you would be so kind as to remove this chain, I’ll be on my way.” She held up her arm as much as she could and stared into the older man’s eyes.
::Mind your tongue girl. Your addressing the King’s Own Herald! You owe him respect.:: Elrin’s voice was heavy with warning.
::I don’t owe him anything. He is no liege of mine::
The link closed then with a slight snap. It was if the Companion was ignoring her.
“I understand your Companion has explained the significance of the events that have taken place. Nothing like this has ever occurred in the history of this kingdom. We’d like to know how you. . it happened.”
Dagenheart narrowed her eyes, “Like I told the horse. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I was just passing through after serving a brief time in your armies as a merc. In fact, I’m still passing through.” And with that she tripped a small spell that split a link in the chain, allowing her freedom. She stood up intent on strolling out the door but at the first sign of weight, her legs trembled and she almost fell.
“You are in no shape to be gallivanting off on your own.” Fyrn said, reaching out to help her stand. She recoiled from his touch and sat back down on the bed. “Furthermore, the bond between you and Elrin is unique. You two cannot be separated over long distances for any length of time. The mix of energy depends on you staying within a certain radius of him. If the bond were to break”. He shuddered. “It would likely kill you both.
That shocked her. But there was no proof that it was true. Still. . .
“How big a radius? Where is he now?” She asked.
“Right now he is about a fifth of a mile away. We are guessing that a mile would be the fatal limit and probably not even that far. The further apart you are, the weaker you both become. It is your life-force energies that are joined. Unfortunately for us, and I suppose you too, your energies carried some. . .” He paused to find the right word.
“I know what my energies contain. Or should I say, contained. Enough with all the flap chap, how does this Heralding thing go and how do I get out of it?” She asked bluntly.
Fryn looked astonished. “You. . . you don’t get out of it. You’ve been chosen.”
“But Elrin said only the pure of heart can be Heralds. He picked wrong this time; it happens. I can’t be a Herald, believe me. You people are far to passive for me.”
“Where will you go?” Alairus asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was like a silk; almost hypnotic.
“Wherever I can. Away from here, that’s for sure.”
“Then what?” He asked casually.
“Then. . .” She realized that she didn’t know. She never had much of a plan. Never seemed to need one. First she was preoccupied with fleeing the Darklands. Then it was that Shin’a’in incident that sent her moving north. A brief stop over in Karse and then here, aiding Valdamar and Hardon against the remnants of the old Eastern Empire. She just figured she would keep moving till she found another opportunity but what if there wasn’t another one. “Then, I’ll go from there”.