The Dragon Herald

The Dragon Herald

Chapter 4 - Identities

Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.

- Lewis Carroll

"I'm still not sure why everyone is fussing so much over this new Trainee," Elspeth said, as the first of the meetings concerning Draco began. "Or rather, I don't see why you're focusing so much on his being Chosen, rather than his being from so far away we've never heard of his homeland. It isn't as though Companions Choose wrongly."

"We know that," Talia said unhappily. "But Draco doesn't, as far as I can tell. I didn't stay with him long enough to get a good sense of his emotional state - he took a disliking to Rolan, for some reason, and my bond with Rolan upset him."

"Rolan upset him?" Teren, the Collegium Dean, asked in surprise. "How could he have? The boy can't be afraid of Companions, can he?"

"No, it wasn't fear," Talia said firmly. With her strong Empathic Gift, no one contradicted her. "He didn't trust me. I don't think he trusts much of anyone. Certainly he won't trust anyone here other than his own Companion."

"If he will trust her," Darkwind said thoughtfully. "It is possible that, if he doesn't fully understand the Heraldic bond, he might not realize how deeply his Companion - Orelia, I believe you said - cares for him."

"But he can feel it," Elspeth objected. "Surely he won't mistrust himself."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Talia warned. "He's confused, that much I know for certain." She sighed. "I wish he'd let me close enough to read him properly."

"Well, let's ask the person who did get that chance," Kerowyn said reasonably. She looked over at Lyra, who was sitting quietly with Jemmie. "What do you think, Lyra?"

Lyra frowned in concentration as she tried to remember. "Well... he was harder to read than I'm used to," she said slowly. Her Gift of Empathy wasn't as strong as Talia's was, though it was still her primary Gift. "Talia had it right when she said he was confused. First he was just furious, then after he went out to talk to his Companion, he wouldn't talk at all anymore. And it's harder to read someone when you keep on getting upset with him." She colored a little as she admitted that.

"I can imagine he upsset you," Treyvan said dryly. "Frrom what I ssaw of him, the boy sseemss mosst irrrational."

"Irrational doesn't cover half of it," Jemmie said feelingly. "He was going on and on about how he didn't like Heralds - except he kept calling us something else. It sounded like 'gryphons,' but it wasn't."

"Gryffindors," Lyra supplied. "I think they're a group of people from his homeland. And I don't think he got along with them very well. Just the thought that Heralds were similar to these Gryffindors made him angry."

"Yes, but everything made him angry," Jemmie said, exasperated. "He just kept getting crazier for no reason."

"Oh, he had reasons," Lyra said. "But his mind works differently than ours do, I think. I'm not a Mindspeaker, of course, and even if I were I couldn't say for certain unless I read all his thoughts, but that's part of what I think the problem is."

"But only part?" Kerowyn asked. "Let's hear the rest of it, then, before we go any further."

Lyra nodded. "He's hurting inside," she said simply. "It's hard to see - it took me a while to realize that was what I was sensing - but it's there. Or maybe wounded is a better way to describe it. Wounded, and then scarred. All his feelings are tangled up, really badly. If you just look at him as himself, you just see an angry, nasty boy - but if you look at him as the product of seventeen years of manipulation, you can see that there's more to it than that."

"So he's not as awful as he was acting?" Elspeth asked.

"Oh, no, he's pretty awful," Lyra said, grimacing. "I don't think that's ever going to change. Whatever messed him up, it happened so long ago that he'll never get rid of it. Plus I don't think he was a very nice person to begin with."

"But he was Chosen," Teren said. "He must have some redeeming qualities."

"I guess he does, somewhere," Lyra said doubtfully. "I mean, he has all the bases for them."

Selenay frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"He has all the right ideas," Lyra clarified. "He's just not applying them right. It's like..." She paused to think. "It's like he has a sense of justice, but instead of using it to protect the weak he uses it to manipulate systems to help himself, or to bring about an appropriate vengeance on people who he thinks have wronged him."

"He misuses power?" Elcarth asked, horrified. "But how could someone like that be Chosen?"

Lyra shook her head helplessly. "I don't know," she said. "I'm only telling you what I could sense, and what it might mean. And after all, I might not even be getting it right. I'm nowhere near as experienced at reading people as Talia is."

"You're doing just fine so far," Talia told her, smiling.

"I just wish I had better things to tell you," Lyra said. "I mean, he probably does misuse power, or he would if he had the chance. And he definitely had some issues about rank."

"I'll say," Jemmie muttered.

Lyra glanced at him, grinning briefly, before continuing. "I guess Draco could become a Herald, if he really wanted to - but I don't think he does. I don't understand his Companion's Choice, though I suppose it's not my job to understand it. I just don't think he'll make a very good Herald, and if anyone can figure out a way to send him back to his home without hurting him or his Companion, I think we ought to do it."

"Perhaps," Albereich, the Weaponsmaster, said thoughtfully. "But we must remember, not lightly do the Companions Choose. The boy Chosen has been, even if we do not like it. Surely his Companion had her reasons for this action."

"Gwena did say that the Companions as a group were trying to find a new kind of mage," Elspeth remembered. "That's why they snatched this boy from so far away."

"They feel the need for a new mage is that desperate?" Selenay asked, her brow creasing. "I don't like that at all, especially if there are so many doubts about the boy."

"Aren't you all being a little unfair to Draco?" Darren said. "He's hardly the first Herald to have a dark past. The important thing isn't who he was before he came here - it's who he's going to become. Draco has been Chosen. That means he can become a Herald. Lyra, you said you saw the potential within him."

"But it was only potential," Lyra said.

"Potential is important," Talia said with a small smile. "The way you've described Draco reminds me of another youngling I worked with once - a child who had also been twisted up mentally, to the point where everyone was convinced that it was impossible for her to be Chosen."

Everyone looked over at Elspeth. She smiled crookedly. "Yes, I was quite the Brat," she agreed. "And I like to think I turned out all right in spite of it."

"Can you compare the two of them, though?" Teren asked. "Talia got to Elspeth when she was young enough that her behavior hadn't become ingrained. Draco is much older, old enough that he should be able to make his own choices about how he acts. If he doesn't change of his own accord, even Talia's influence wouldn't matter."

"And why wouldn't he choose to change?" Darkwind asked. "If he's been Chosen, doesn't that mean he's the type of person who will so choose?"

"And that is the point we're trying to figure out," Elcarth said with a heavy sigh. "I've never heard of a Trainee refusing to become a Herald, but that seems to be what Draco wants to do. We can't force him into this, can we?"

"The situation has never come up," Myste said, with her authority as Herald-Chronicler. "For as far back as we have records, there has never been a Chosen who refused to become a Herald. We've had Chosen who didn't understand what it was a Herald did, or who had doubts about their own abilities, but never anyone who knew what being a Herald meant, and still didn't want to be trained."

"But does he know what it means to be a Herald?" Kerowyn asked, frowning. "Has anyone explained it properly to him? Or did you just tell him we're a group of do-gooders, and leave it at that?"

Lyra and Jemmie exchanged glances. "We didn't say anything," Lyra had to admit. "I didn't think we had to. He seemed to understand."

"Then before we make any kind of decision, someone should talk to Draco in detail about becoming a Herald, and find out exactly what he's thinking," Selenay decreed.

"I think Kerowyn would be the best choice," Talia suggested.

"Me?" Kerowyn raised her eyebrows. "If you're sure - but I warn you, I'm no good at comforting confused children."

"What Draco needs isn't comfort," Talia said. "I think you two will get along quite well."

Kerowyn shrugged. "All right, then."

"Good," Selenay said crisply. "Myste, I'd like you to search the Chronicles again, this time looking for more information on Trainees with particularly strong doubts about their qualifications to be Heralds." Myste nodded. "Elspeth, Darkwind, are you two planning to talk with Draco at some point?"

"I think we should," Elspeth said, glancing at Darkwind. "If he has any kind of magic, we should find out about it. Also, I'd like to see if I can figure out where it is the Companions brought him from." She paused. "I think we'd better wait until after he's talked to Kerowyn, though."

"That would probably be best," Selenay agreed. "All right, then. We can discuss this again tomorrow." She sighed. "I hope we have fewer worries by then."

Draco sat on his bed glaring at his new uniform, willing it to change color. Grey. Why did it have to be grey? He hated grey. It looked so faded, so washed out. Black was infinitely better. It stood solidly at the very bottom of the color spectrum, with no drop of white mixed in for relief. Black knew exactly what it was - not like grey, hanging around in the middle of the color wheel, with every color mixed into it until even the brightest became dull. Grey was neither one thing nor the other.

If every other Trainee hadn't had the same uniform, Draco would have suspected that the Heralds were trying to tell him something.

He was just considering which charm would be best to alter the color of his uniform when a knock came at his door. He looked up, frowning suspiciously. Who would want to talk to him? It had better not be Lyra and Jemmie again. God, they were annoying.

When there came a second, more impatient knock, Draco got up, resigned to dealing with whoever-it-was. He opened the door. "What?"

It was a tall, blonde woman, dressed in dark grey leathers. Her arms were folded as she surveyed Draco critically. "So you're the newest Trainee."

"Don't be so sure," Draco said, scowling. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kerowyn," the woman said. "I'm the Herald-Captain and one of the Weapons Masters. The Queen asked me to talk to you and make sure you understand what the Heralds actually are."

"Thanks, but I've had the recruiting speech," Draco said. "I'm sure you have puppies to rescue or some crap like that, so why don't you get back to it? I already agreed to be a part of your stupid training program."

"It's not a recruiting speech," Kerowyn told him. "Heralds don't recruit. Either you are one, or you aren't. And if you got the impression that this conversation was optional, consider yourself corrected."

Draco shrugged. "Whatever. Go ahead, then."

Kerowyn snorted. "I'm not about to talk to you standing about in the hallway like this. Not all of us are as young as you. Go on, go in and sit down. This could take a while."

"Wonderful," Draco muttered, turning to go back into his room. He flopped down on the edge of his bed, while Kerowyn claimed the only chair in the room.

"Let's start with what you know about Heralds already," Kerowyn said. "What have you heard?"

"Enough," Draco said shortly.

"I'll need more than that," Kerowyn commanded impatiently. "I don't have all day. Out with it, boy."

"Don't call me 'boy,'" Draco snapped. "I'm a Malfoy, and I'll thank you to address me as one."

"Fine." Kerowyn rolled her eyes. "Draco, then. Now hurry up and get on with it."

"Okay. What I know about Heralds. Gosh, let's see." Draco cocked his head in a theatrical thinking pose. "Well, you wear all white, and you all live in a medieval-type castle with your Companions, and oh yes, I've just remembered, you're a giant lot of do-gooder, holier-than-thou, moralizing, pacifist heroes who'd be tossed into Gryffindor faster than a Weasley. Does that cover it? Why, my goodness, yes, I think it does. End of conversation, see you in class." He stood up.

Kerowyn grinned. "Not quite, Malfoy. Good try, though. I see why Talia thought I'd be a good match for you. Sit down again. I can see where we need to go from here."

Disconcerted at this reaction, Draco found himself obeying her. "So what are you going to say to try to convince me I'm wrong?" he asked challengingly.

"Well, you aren't, entirely," Kerowyn said. "There are some Heralds who are exactly what you just described. Personally, I can't stand them, and I'm damn glad the Queen keeps them out on the farther Circuits where they can't annoy too many people. You can't get anything done if you've always got the attitude of being better than everyone else, and that's what being a Herald really comes down to. Doing what has to be done."

"Oh, how wonderful," Draco said sourly, "a lecture on chivalry, nobility, and the glories of throwing yourself into danger without any concern for the consequences. Please, continue. I know I'm on the edge of my seat."

"You do like to take the negative view, don't you?" Kerowyn said, raising an eyebrow. "Most people don't get that jaded till they're twice your age."

"So I'm special," Draco said with a shrug. "I knew that already."

"So I see." Kerowyn smirked. "Well, there are certainly some Heralds you could call noble, but most of us don't get the luxury of chivalry, or of ignoring consequences. Doing what has to be done isn't the glorious tale the Bards would have you think. We don't act out of some kind of posturing nobility. We get things done because they need to be done, and because no one else will do them if we don't."

"So you're just a bunch of helpless ordinary folk, doing your best to help the world because no one else will bother?" Draco shook his head. "I knew you had a sales pitch in there somewhere. Sorry, but I can read between the lines on this one. When you do good just so you can go around making sure everyone knows about it, you don't get the karmic points."

Kerowyn frowned. "You do talk strangely, don't you? Never mind, I get the gist of it, and you couldn't have misinterpreted more. Our goal isn't to make ourselves look good. Most Valdemarans have very little idea what Heralds actually do. Even if they did know, I doubt they'd be impressed. There's more hard work to it than anything, and a lot of it is unpleasant as well. For every Herald triumphantly rescuing children from a burning house there are at least a hundred doing ordinary tasks like running messages or untangling local disputes."

Draco frowned, considering this in spite of himself. "So you're judges? Or just messengers for the judges?"

"Both, if need be," Kerowyn said with a shrug. "Heralds become whatever the Monarch needs them to be. Most of us go out riding Circuits through parts of Valdemar, dispensing justice and giving whatever aid we can to the people."

"Knights errant," Draco said, with a hint of a sneer.

"If you want to call them that, you can," Kerowyn said. "Names don't matter, not when it comes down to it. After all, if we're going by names, a Herald is just a glorified messenger. You can call the job anything you like, so long as you get it done."

"Such a wonderful philosophy," Draco drawled. He found himself unable to muster quite as much indifference as he usually could with that tone, but he blamed it on the new environment. After all, he couldn't be expected to be both indifferent and alert to possible threats, could he?

"Isn't it?" Kerowyn agreed, as if Draco had been perfectly sincere in his reply to her. "That's always been one of the things I appreciated most about Heralds. They get things done, without whining too much about it. Doing what has to be done isn't pleasant or easy."

Draco started to speak, but the memory of his father made him pause. Doing what has to be done... wasn't that what he'd done when he'd told his father that he wouldn't become a Death Eater? "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, I'll give you that one."

"Then you know that it can get pretty nasty sometimes," Kerowyn said. "Being a Herald isn't a pretty job, and it isn't for the faint of heart. We defend the people of Valdemar, whatever the cost. Sometimes we've had to do some fairly terrible things - sabotage, subterfuge, even assassination. We'll use any means available. We may not like it, but we'll do it."

"Any means..." A vague snatch of music floated into Draco's consciousness. "Any means to achieve their ends."

"Exactly," Kerowyn said. "Not everyone would put it the same way, mind you, but that's how I see it. And believe me, it took quite a lot of convincing to make me believe I could be a Herald."

"Really?" Draco frowned. Actually, he could see that. Her arguments were awfully concise to have been thought up spur of the moment.

"Well, you've probably heard I used to be a mercenary," Kerowyn said wryly. "And someone who fights for money is just about as different from a Herald as can be. Now granted, I did try to fight for good causes, as well as I could, but I'm not sure it made much difference. My loyalty was to my fighters, to keep them safe. They depended on me to make sure they got through the battles safely."

"Yeah, yeah, and then you realized the whole Kingdom was just like your band of fighters," Draco said impatiently. "I see where you're going with it."

"Oh, no, you don't," Kerowyn said. "Don't go interrupting me, lad, unless you're sure that what you're about to say is more valuable than what I'm trying to tell you. I was aiming at the switch of loyalties, true, but it isn't as clear-cut as you described. When you trade loyalty to individuals for loyalty to a higher cause, there's a feeling of betrayal to those you're leaving behind. It's inevitable, if you cared for them at all, and for some people it never fades."

"Then why bother?" Draco asked. "If it's going to hurt, it can't be worth it to go through all that just to become a Herald."

"I never said it wasn't worth it," Kerowyn said. "It is, if you're the type of person to get Chosen. Heralds leave behind everything - homes, businesses, parents, children - because they don't have it in them to deny that loyalty. It's like a need that was always there, but was never realized until their Companions came for them. Once they understood what it was they were feeling, they knew they had to go, no matter how much it hurt them and their loved ones."

"And no one's ever tried to turn back?" Draco asked skeptically. "Not one person, in all your Kingdom's history?"

"You'd have to ask our Herald-Chronicler about that," Kerowyn said with a shrug. "But I do know that Companions don't Choose wrongly. Everyone who gets Chosen becomes a Herald. It's because being Chosen isn't a choice made by the Heralds. I don't know how, but the Companions know who has the potential to become a Herald."

"And I'm the first who's ever had any questions about it," Draco said, bored with the repetition. "You mentioned."

"Oh, you're not the first who's had questions," Kerowyn said dismissively. "We've all wondered, at one time or another. You're just the first one where we thought those questions needed such dramatic answers."

"I excel at causing drama," Draco said with a smirk.

"I've noticed." Kerowyn grinned. "Just when the Circle needed to get stirred up a bit, too." She sobered. "Listen, Draco, I don't know that I'm the best judge, but I think you could be a real Herald, if you tried. Most people wouldn't have gotten a lot of what I said to you, or would have disagreed or tried to correct me. You've got the principles, and you understand them, and that's more than ordinary people can manage. Granted, you're different enough that people might not like you much, but I think being popular is highly overrated. I'm not supposed to be giving you advice, but I think you could become one of the best Heralds in the Kingdom, given the chance."

Draco stared at Kerowyn. Her words were so similar to Orelia's that it was frightening. These two women thought he had the potential to become something vastly different from who he knew he was, yet they barely knew him. How could they think that? Why did they think that? He'd never come across anyone who thought like that before. Was it just that they wanted to see this potential in him? But no, why should it matter to them whether it was there or not? All they had to say was that he wasn't worthy, and their Circle would be rid of him.

"I think you're crazy," Draco said, closing his eyes. "You, and Orelia, and every single person in this whole fucked-up country. Wanting me to become some kind of hero - you're madder than a Fwooper breeder."

"Oh, naturally," Kerowyn said, laughing. "I think all Heralds are a little mad. It's probably one of those mysterious requirements the Companions look for. You need a touch of madness, to survive in this job."

"Yeah." Draco sighed. "Look, whatever, okay? I already said I'd go to those classes, and it's not like I have anywhere else to go anyway, so I don't know why you wasted your time lecturing me. Go out and get on with your dragon slaying, or whatever it is you do."

"If you insist." Kerowyn smiled faintly. "I'll see you in the salle, Draco Malfoy. I look forward to it."

When Draco pointedly ignored her, Kerowyn's smile quirked into a grin, and she left.