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Sharina liked the Valdemar version of the play her brother Petir was currently starring in best. Like all versions it was a fairly simple story of a hero who faced down a cruel man that had stolen his brother’s lands and title. The exact title stolen changing to whatever they thought the local audience would best appreciate. The only one where the seat of power wasn’t returned to the rightful heir was performed for Karsite audiences in which the Hero turned out to be an undercover Priest, sent by Vkandis to save the people and impressing everyone so much the town converted on the spot. Sharina had never been to Karse. They burned Gifted people in Karse and Sharina was an animal mindspeaker. A fate she was more than happy to avoid.
Jenma, the white pony, had been done up to resemble a companion out on search. She was too small to actually be mistaken for a real one and while smart was, if the stories were true, nowhere near as intelligent as the real thing.
Just as Sharina was getting ready to send Jenma out to ‘choose’ the hero of the story, rewarding him for his good deeds, she heard the sound of bells. Looking around Sharina saw the most beautiful white horse she’d ever seen, and as a traveller she had seen many. No, she realised, not a horse, a companion. A creature, so the stories said, who merely resembled a horse and had been sent by the gods to select honourable people to serve the ruler and people of Valdemar.
Sharina watched as Jenma stood aside and the companion calmly walked past, onto the stage, and made eye contact with a stunned looking Petir.
“I am honoured to have been chosen,” Petir said. The cheering was more enthusiastic than Sharina had ever heard before. After all, it wasn’t every day one saw a companion select their herald.