Theo struggled against the rope that was tied tight enough that his hands and fingers were purple. A constant flow of red light healed it, which was more alarming than not. He flexed his wrists, but it was no use. Besides, another rope was lashed around his waist that affixed him to a tree. Voices argued back and forth around the campfire about what to do with him.

It was ironic how back when he needed a diversion he didn’t really have one, but now if he still had all of his weapons then he could have felled quite a few. The boy hadn’t deserved it, but the others probably did. They had set the ambush and stolen Nightfire, he was sure of it.

Vemon, the Dontrosi man with knives, sat with his hand held tight against the boy’s brow as a torrent of red light streamed from him into the boy. He was one of the greatest supporters of not letting Theo leave, but that they should either press him into their group to ensure a victory, or leave him weaponless and tied up on the road behind them so he’d fail the Pageship.

Isidora insisted on receiving her oath from him. That he’d leave her sight to never return or become her slave, but she was oddly enough met with more disagreement than he’d ever seen before. He watched her carefully over the past hour since his capture, and she hadn’t shown a nimbus once. Isidora has a way about her, Alanna’s words from the night of the festival in Fremr echoed in his mind.

Was her talent something more sinister that she didn’t want others with manifested talents seeing? Ever since the Manse, he’d seen less and less sign of her nimbus. Granted, he hadn’t been able to see them for too long, but still.

“He has a talent for Aleyr’s sake! He’d be helpful to ensure we win, and we’ll ensure he wins too. Why do you refuse to see the value in this arrangement?” Vemon shouted as he waved his other hand flippantly.

“Because he’s nothing!” Isidora shouted as she stood up to thrust her finger into his face. “He’s nothing but a filthy farmerboy who thinks he can become a horsePage! What qualifies him to do what I’ve fought, trained, and suffered my whole life for? On top of that, if he wins, he’ll propose to my sister and take the only true family I have left away from me!”

Silence. The overbearing quiet seemed almost louder after all of the frantic arguing. Only Isidora and the fire made noise. She panted as she glared around at everyone that met her gaze then she turned to pin an even fiercer one on Theo.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” She snarled as she pushed past the crowd of their competitors and peers until she stood over him.

“About what?” He snorted as he leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree as if it were the most luxurious seat imaginable. “That you’re entitled just because your daddy is rich and had high expectations for you? None of what you said is any of your business.”

“How am I entitled? You and your sister walk around like you two own everything you step on! Your family acts all high and mighty just because your farm and horses have kept you all afloat? So proud because you haven’t needed help from Father?”

“Barely. That horse was our last hope, and now you all have her. If I can’t win a Pageship, then my family is all but fucked.” Garret was right, he had been selfish and risked them all for nothing. Not to mention, now that he’d seen Silverwind and how the children of Lordship operated, no one would’ve bought Nightfire from them or given them a stud to breed her with. She wasn’t the windfall they hoped for.

“Then work with us.” Vemon demanded as he stood up from the boy whose breathing and heartbeat were stable. The boy that Theo hadn’t been able to heal. “Help us get the titles we deserve and we’ll make sure you either get one too or get paid the money you need. Win-win.”

“But—” Isidora started, whirling towards Vemon, but he held a hand out to shush her.

“No, you’ve had your say. It’s my turn now, girl. He took out three of our own and nearly another three, but they’ve been restored.” He pointed down at the boy at his feet, then again at two vaguely familiar men with an axe and hammer on their respective belts. They were swathed in bandages from their encounter and had brooding glares to match Isidora’s wrathful one.

“You’re too young to decide how this alliance goes. For many of us, this is our last year. You can try again and again for what? Three to six more years? Besides, he has a talent. A useful one if he was able to take out Oliver unaware.” Vemon turned back to Theo. “What do you say?”

Isidora flounced off to her tent in a rage followed by the two men. Only Vemon, a man and a woman and the boy, Oliver, remained.

“I’m in.” Theo smiled, even as his stomach churned at his failings. He wanted to earn this on his own merits, but if they were doing this then he had no doubt that other Lordship spawn would too. On top of the ambushes, social maneuvering and potential sabotage, this could be his best and only chance.

If he tried alone, who was to say that everyone wouldn’t converge on him and the others without allies first?

“Good.” Vemon walked over to him to lean down and cut the bonds ensnaring him before inviting him to the campfire where he scooped a bowl of stew from the pot. “Tell us who you are, tell us your capabilities.”

“Well..” Theo rubbed his hands over his chafed wrists as he considered how to answer. He stared down at the thin stew with various mushrooms and cuts of softened beef jerky. “My name is Theodran, but well, everyone calls me Theo. I grew up in Fremr and my family raises horses.”

“That’s the most pathetic introduction I’ve ever heard.” Vemon chuckled to the collective agreement of the other two in the group who were conscious. “Speak with passion! Who are you?”

“Theo and I—”

“No, no. You misunderstand. Those are only facts about you, details better found in a bureaucratic census than out of a person’s mouth. Try again. What makes you tick? Why in Aleyr’s name would you sneak up on us if you were only a horse breeder’s son? Why risk your life for a Pageship? Was that girl right about you? Or is there more to ‘Theo’ short for ‘Theodran’?”

“We need money and I want to propose to…” He trailed off at Vemon’s fervent head shaking. “What’s wrong with that? You’re asking about my motivations.”

“Sure, in a way, but not those that involve other people. Why do this when you could get a loan or sell your talent for a bit? I assume it’s useful if you’re trying for a Pageship.”

“I only just manifested my talent fully yesterday,” Theo said defensively.

“That only proves my point more! Why come out here before you know your talent then? Who the fuck are you? Are you just an arrogant child who pisses in the wind expecting it to loose straight as an arrow? Or are you an adult who knows what he’s fighting for?”

“I couldn’t bear to let someone else ride our best horse in this damned race.” Theo snapped as he lurched to his feet. “Do you all even understand all of the work it takes to raise and train those beautiful horses you all take for granted? It takes years to get them to the point where they even become useful. Fucking years! Then you have to condition them, keep their athleticism up, get them used to the clang of metal. It takes fucking time and effort to train them on top of training yourself. I made Nightfire who she is, so I’m the only one that’s going to ride her to the victory we deserve!

“Sure, I want that other stuff too, but I want all of Aethel, no, all of the other Chalices to know how incredible she is and how good our family actually is at training horses. ”

“Except you don’t have a horse anymore.”

“No.” Theo spat out the bitter word then sighed as all of the fight left him. “I don’t have a horse anymore. She’s gone.”

“Nightfire’s a pretty distinct name… Would it happen to fit a pure black horse with an auburn mane by any chance?”

“Take me to her.” Theo took a step closer to Vemon. Heartbeats leapt as the man and woman watching their conversation reached for their weapons at his sudden movement.. “If you have her, I’ll help you to the best of my talent and capabilities”

“Which is?” Vemon smirked in a self-satisfied way that’d have a cat yowling in jealousy.

“Show me you have her first.” He lifted his chin to meet Vemon’s piercing stare with one of his own.

“Come with us Dorian and Hespa. Oliver should be fine, he only has a concussion.”

Dorian and Hespa hemmed in around Theo as Vemon led them towards the picket line of horses where he’d been headed in the first place. Nimbuses sparked and whirled around all three of them as they walked closer and closer to the horses. He wondered what their talents were.

He hadn’t realized how much of an advantage they really were when his only example outside of legends and songs had been Modran’s talent.

“Here we are.” Vemon said as he reached out matter-of-factly towards an individual horse in the line up to select a braying, furious Nightfire. Theo rushed forward to brush her muzzle with his hand. She knickered and pranced in place, irritated at the short leash that hitched her to the picket line with. “Tell us your talent now or we’ll kill her then you. Maybe we’ll find your sister too. Isidora mentioned her?”

“What?” Theo whirled and sighed at the familiar sight of weapons being brandished at him after asking that question. He almost laughed when they threatened killing Modran, but he was more furious that he’d threatened to kill a horse as beautiful as Nightfire. What a waste. “Don’t be fucking pathetic. By Aleyr, once I figure out my talent, you’ll want me on your team. Wastes, you might just beg for me to be on it.”

Vemon raised a single eyebrow that was at odds to the long sharp knives he held in his hands. Dorian and Hespa each held a saber at the ready to skewer him through the heart with.

“I can heal myself.” He rolled his eyes while he continued to stroke Nightfire’s muzzle. “After the ambush you guys set on me yesterday, I woke up with a broken leg, had a fractured arm and ribs, plus a huge cut in my left side. Then Imy talent healed me.”

“Bullshit. Fixer and healer talents aren’t that powerful right out of the gate. We aren’t old enough for skills or archetypes either. There’s no way that your talent happened to manifest that strongly.” Hespa challenged with a wave of her sword.

“Maybe, but I’ve been trying to figure it out for awhile. I’ve been getting flashes of it for years. Wastes, I’m pretty sure I’ve been healing faster than normal too. When I was a kid I sprained my shoulder after a bad fall from the saddle and it was normal in under a week. Everyone just thought I had been dramatic.”

“Prove it.” Dorian nodded as he shook his blade threateningly. An almost pointless gesture in the pitch-black of the night. Except that Theo could sense their bodies with a far too intimate knowledge.

“Fine. We’ll head back to the campfire so you can see.” Theo suggested then nodded as Vemon started to lead the way again to the campfire. This time, Dorian and Hespa trailed behind him with their weapons out.

“Well? Did you figure it out?” Isidora called out alone with her arms crossed and her foot bouncing. The other two that had fought Theo the night before were still gone though.

“He says his talent is healing and he’s going to prove it. Apparently, Frederic and Lugh did a real number on him.” Vemon said calmly as he snapped his fingers in some sort of signal.

Dorian and Hespa slashed at him cutting a giant x down his back. He staggered forward a few steps before he turned to glare at them. Red light poured free from the gathered well of power he’d amassed. The cuts itched as they writhed closed quick enough that only a few drops of blood broke free.

“Is it really healed?” Isidora asked as she squinted behind him.

Vemon wiped the blood from Theo’s back with his shirt sleeve then roared in laughter. “We’re finally winning this year!”

Hespa and Dorian joined in, but when Theo turned around, Isidora stared at him expressionlessly. It seems that it hadn't just been a show earlier. Alanna was right, he really would have to watch himself around her.