"Well, I do know a little more than that," he said, warming to her cheerful manner. "Am I really going to be a Heraldic Trainee?" It was hard to believe; he could picture himself in the Guard, he could easily picture himself as a Caravan Master, but a Herald? He'd never seriously entertained the idea of himself in Whites.
Elenor gestured at Kalira, who was watching both of them with sparkling blue eyes the color of deep water. "You've been Chosen, that makes you a Heraldic Trainee. I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice!" She laughed. "It's not a job you can volunteer for or decline, it seems!"
For a brief moment, he felt uncertainty; did he really want the rest of his life decided for him? Hadn't he been trying to escape his own parents' plans for his life? But then he looked into Kalira's eyes and knew that she was worth any sacrifice.
"At least you know what Heralds do," Elenor continued. "Some Trainees don't even know that. Poor things. They are terribly confused; they've got no idea why they're here or what they're supposed to do, and when their Gifts start emerging—"
She stopped abruptly, and blushed, as if aware that his Gift was the source of a great deal of trouble, anguish—and tragedy.
"Gifts," he said bitterly. "That's what they're called, isn't it? But it's hardly a Gift if you don't want it and can't control it. It's not a Gift if all it does is bring harm."
She gazed at him solemnly for a little, as if she was thinking. "I suppose it seems that way, but I can think of a lot of ways that your Gift could be used for good. If there was a war—" She shook her head. "I'd rather not think about a war, but if there was a forest fire, a bad one, you could use it to start backfires in places it would be too dangerous to send firefighters to."
He had to nod reluctant agreement to that. He had lived in the country, and he knew how devastating a forest or grass fire could be. Sometimes the only way to stop a fire was to set another fire in its path, but that was a very dangerous thing to do, for there was always the chance that the ones setting the fire would find themselves trapped between two fire lines. People had died that way.
"You could herd wild beasts away with a line of fire, too. I'm sure there are other things your Gift would be useful for." She continued hopefully, "We'd just have to work at thinking of them. I mean, the only reason nobody has thought of useful things for Firestarting before is because it's so rare."
Kalira nuzzled him, silently reminding him of her presence and help. :Pol and Satiran are coming,: she told him. :We will have a great deal to discuss.:
"Kalira says that your father and his Companion are coming," he told the young Healer. She nodded, and gave him a hand to steady himself with as he got to his feet.
"You'll want to talk with them outside," she said immediately. "Like you did last night. That way, Satiran and Kalira can be right there with you."
Yes, and if I lose control again, I won't burn down the building, he added sadly to himself.
:You won't lose control. I am with you, and I will not let that happen.: Kalira answered his unspoken doubt with such passion that he blinked in surprise.
"You know," Elenor continued, as she hovered at his elbow, ready to steady him if he wobbled, "I think Father was hoping that I'd be Chosen by your Kalira instead of becoming a Healer. Then he'd have a double-family team to help train."
"What?" Lan responded, not very cleverly, but that didn't seem to bother Elenor.
"We'd have been entirely family—Kalira is Satiran's daughter, and Pol is my father, you see. The daughters partnered and the fathers partnered. It would have had a nice symmetry."
By this time they were in the garden and saw that the Herald and his Companion were waiting at the bench, so Lan was saved from having to answer, which was just as well. So his Companion was daughter to Herald Pol's Companion? He only hoped that there was not as much friction between stallion and filly as there was between himself and his parents.
:There isn't—other than Satiran wanting to protect me too much,: Kalira responded, highly amused.
:If my parents had been half as willing to protect me—: he told her ruefully, not needing to finish the thought. She knew; already she knew him, inside and out, good and bad, and she loved him anyway.
"Good morning, Lan," Pol hailed him with a half wave. "How are you feeling?" This morning all of the sternness seemed to have melted away from Pol's expression; his manner was easy and casual.
"Kind of shaken, sir," Lan replied, then spotted the Guardsman stationed discreetly out of earshot. The man was trying to look as if he was there for some other purpose, but his eyes kept straying back to Lan.
:Is he there because they don't trust me?: he asked Kalira, not at all surprised. :I can't really blame them for that, I suppose....:
:It's the Guard's doing, not the Heralds'. When nothing happens for a while, they'll take the watchdog off of you,: she told him, indirectly confirming his guess. :But there is this—he's there as much to keep people from upsetting you as anything else. If anyone starts to make you unhappy, he's to take them away.:
Lan wished devoutly that he had gotten the benefit of such a watchdog a long time ago.
"Elenor, is Lan ready to move to Heralds' Collegium?" Pol asked, transferring his attention to his daughter.
"Not yet; a few more days," she told him, with all of the authority of a Healer twice her age. "We want him to have his meeting with his family here, before he gets surrounded by strangers."
"Meeting?" he squeaked, taken entirely by surprise. "What meeting?"
"Lan, your parents have to talk with you at some point," Pol chuckled. "You can't escape having a family by being Chosen, you know."
Actually, he hadn't known; somewhere in the back of his mind he must have hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with his parents until he was all trained and a Herald in full Whites, with all the authority of the office behind him. How was he going to explain what had happened to them? They'd blame him for all the horrible things that had happened—
But Pol apparently understood his reluctance to face his family. "Don't worry, I think you'll find that they are so overwhelmed by the fact that you've been Chosen that they won't have a great deal to say to you," Pol told him, an amused sparkle in his eyes. Evidently the Herald wasn't at all worried at what Lan's parents might say or think.
Lan blinked and considered that statement. He wondered, now, what they'd been told about the fire and about being Chosen. Did they even know it was his Gift that had caused the fire?
:No,: said Kalira. :Outside of a very few people, no one has been told. It is being said that the fire was a terrible accident, caused by the boys who were beating you. Which it was, never doubt it, just not in the way that outsiders are assuming.: