what this must mean for her. The idea of formal schooling, with its rules and regulations, its masters and underlings, its stodgy, stifling confines and customs dismayed her to her core. “No!” she shouted, so suddenly that Camayo stiffened.
Slowly, the Companion arched his neck, bringing his head in Evita’s direction without actually turning his body. : What happened? Are you hurt?:
“No.” Evita clarified. “I’m not hurt.” She twined her fingers anxiously. “Well, I’m a bit sore; but, otherwise, I’m not physically hurt.”
: What’s wrong?: Camayo repeated, a hint of discomfort and suspicion leaking through with the words. : And use your Mindspeech, please .:
Evita had forgotten. : Yes, of course. It’s just that . . . : Even using Mindspeech, she found it difficult to put her thoughts into relatable concepts. :I don’t want to go to Valdemar .:
Camayo turned fully to face Evita directly. He lowered his head. : Ever? :
Evita shook her head, fingers still intertwined. : No, not . . . “not ever.”: She frowned at the double negative. Or was that a triple negative? She tried to make her point more clearly. :I know I have to go eventually.: Secretly, she hoped not. :Right?: She turned Camayo a hopeful look.
Camayo did not even hint at wiggle room. :Of course. Do you think Heralds know what to do wholly by instinct?:
Evita knew only that she had no intention of clipping her newfound wings so quickly. :Well . . . I think someone with a reasonable amount of common sense could do a decent job without necessarily having to take classes on it.:
If possible, Camayo’s huge eyes seemed to grow larger. :Is that so?:
Evita did not wish to sound offensive. :I suppose a Herald would have to learn mind magic. But, if it’s anything like Mindspeaking, well, I picked that up easily enough.:
Camayo only stared. If he blinked, Evita did not see it.
:And, obviously, my horseback riding could stand a lot of practice, but you can give me that without some instructor droning on about balance and grip and knee position.:
Camayo’s nostrils flared. He huffed out a warm breath. :How’s your weapons work?:
“Weapons?” Evita repeated aloud with a shiver of revulsion. “Why would I want to know that?”
:So that if a basilisk attempts to consume you, you can disabuse it of the notion.: Camayo reminded, :And, please, Dear One. Use Mindspeech.:
Evita switched, :I’ve survived this long without basilisks attempting to eat me.:
:You’ve been confined to a tiny portion of the world. You requested travel and adventure, and you will get them. But you’ll need to know how to defend yourself.:
Evita refused to touch a sword, but she saw no reason to argue that point with Camayo. She would save it until she faced an instructor with arms and hands.
:Do you know how to interact with royalty?:
:I know how to treat everyone with kindness and respect.: To Evita, that was enough. :Accidents of birth should not be the sole determinant for how you behave toward a stranger.:
:Agreed.: Camayo stamped a forehoof. :But protocol serves a significant purpose. And you will need to learn history, diplomacy, languages . . . :
Though safe in open forest, Evita could feel the dull walls of the Collegium closing in on her, squeezing the life from her like a massive and deranged snake. “Details. People are people, Camayo. If you’re good to them, they respond in kind. All it would take to get rid of wars and weapons is for people to treat one another with the kindness and dignity they want for themselves.”
:Mindspeech,: Camayo reminded. :And your naiveté is charming, but dangerous.:
Evita bristled at the notion. “Just because I believe there’s good in everyone does not make me naïve! If everyone just gave peace a chance—”
Camayo breathed a horsey sigh and turned back to grazing.
Evita did not appreciate the brush-off. “Don’t turn away from me, Camayo. You know it’s true. If everyone just gave peace a
Slowly, the Companion arched his neck, bringing his head in Evita’s direction without actually turning his body. : What happened? Are you hurt?:
“No.” Evita clarified. “I’m not hurt.” She twined her fingers anxiously. “Well, I’m a bit sore; but, otherwise, I’m not physically hurt.”
: What’s wrong?: Camayo repeated, a hint of discomfort and suspicion leaking through with the words. : And use your Mindspeech, please .:
Evita had forgotten. : Yes, of course. It’s just that . . . : Even using Mindspeech, she found it difficult to put her thoughts into relatable concepts. :I don’t want to go to Valdemar .:
Camayo turned fully to face Evita directly. He lowered his head. : Ever? :
Evita shook her head, fingers still intertwined. : No, not . . . “not ever.”: She frowned at the double negative. Or was that a triple negative? She tried to make her point more clearly. :I know I have to go eventually.: Secretly, she hoped not. :Right?: She turned Camayo a hopeful look.
Camayo did not even hint at wiggle room. :Of course. Do you think Heralds know what to do wholly by instinct?:
Evita knew only that she had no intention of clipping her newfound wings so quickly. :Well . . . I think someone with a reasonable amount of common sense could do a decent job without necessarily having to take classes on it.:
If possible, Camayo’s huge eyes seemed to grow larger. :Is that so?:
Evita did not wish to sound offensive. :I suppose a Herald would have to learn mind magic. But, if it’s anything like Mindspeaking, well, I picked that up easily enough.:
Camayo only stared. If he blinked, Evita did not see it.
:And, obviously, my horseback riding could stand a lot of practice, but you can give me that without some instructor droning on about balance and grip and knee position.:
Camayo’s nostrils flared. He huffed out a warm breath. :How’s your weapons work?:
“Weapons?” Evita repeated aloud with a shiver of revulsion. “Why would I want to know that?”
:So that if a basilisk attempts to consume you, you can disabuse it of the notion.: Camayo reminded, :And, please, Dear One. Use Mindspeech.:
Evita switched, :I’ve survived this long without basilisks attempting to eat me.:
:You’ve been confined to a tiny portion of the world. You requested travel and adventure, and you will get them. But you’ll need to know how to defend yourself.:
Evita refused to touch a sword, but she saw no reason to argue that point with Camayo. She would save it until she faced an instructor with arms and hands.
:Do you know how to interact with royalty?:
:I know how to treat everyone with kindness and respect.: To Evita, that was enough. :Accidents of birth should not be the sole determinant for how you behave toward a stranger.:
:Agreed.: Camayo stamped a forehoof. :But protocol serves a significant purpose. And you will need to learn history, diplomacy, languages . . . :
Though safe in open forest, Evita could feel the dull walls of the Collegium closing in on her, squeezing the life from her like a massive and deranged snake. “Details. People are people, Camayo. If you’re good to them, they respond in kind. All it would take to get rid of wars and weapons is for people to treat one another with the kindness and dignity they want for themselves.”
:Mindspeech,: Camayo reminded. :And your naiveté is charming, but dangerous.:
Evita bristled at the notion. “Just because I believe there’s good in everyone does not make me naïve! If everyone just gave peace a chance—”
Camayo breathed a horsey sigh and turned back to grazing.
Evita did not appreciate the brush-off. “Don’t turn away from me, Camayo. You know it’s true. If everyone just gave peace a
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