Okay, now a Tortall chapter! Like I mentioned last chapter, this chapter will feature my OC from The Second Page, my other Tortall fanfic. So, if Celia of Dunlath sounds unfamiliar to you, that's because she's mine. Consider this a DISCLAIMER: I only own Celia and her horse. Nothing much else.

At the fort Steadfast, close to the Scanran border, in the Kingdom of Tortall

"Peace at last."

This comment was voiced by Squire Celia of Dunlath, who was currently serving under Duke Baird of Queenscove until her Ordeal of Knighthood. Owen of Jesslaw, a fellow squire and friend, laughed at this, as they both waved goodbye to their friends Neal of Queenscove and Keladry of Mindelan, who were returning to their post at New Hope after a week of festivities. The festivities were held in honor of the wedding between Lord Raoul, Commander of the King's Own, and Buri, former Commander of the Queen's Riders, as well as Neal's own wedding to his sweetheart, Lady Yukimi. All in all, it had been a tiring affair for two fourth-year squires whose masters were –just their luck- in the thick of things.

"Are you joking? This was all 'a waste of time' for my lord, just you wait." This remark would have sounded insulting coming out of anyone else's mouth, but Owen was special that way. His boyish face had matured greatly in the past year, and there was a hint of stubble on his soft chin, but he was still the boy-page at heart.

On the other hand, Celia was nearly unrecognizable from the page she had once been. She still had the quiet demeanor around strangers, but around the small circle of people she considered friends, she was as loud as the next. Owen was the closest of these friends, but the feelings they had for each other were new and iffy at best. Both were too shy and preoccupied to mention this unknown feeling. Still, when you looked at her, you saw a young woman, not an animal in a human body, like when she was younger. Maybe this was because of the numerous boys who had tried to catch her eye, now that she had, to coin a phrase; 'blossomed.' When questioned by Kel about these courtiers, she scoffed and shook her head. In the romance section, Celia was even stricter than Kel herself had been.

"Celia, you there?"

"Huh?" She had been dreaming of her coming Ordeal, which –she had realized with a start- was only three months away. "I'm sorry, Owen. I was thinking about the Ordeal. Did you know we only have three months left?"

Owen made a face. "I try not to think about it."

"Well, you should." Celia snapped, then felt her face grow warm, and looked hurriedly away.

Bite your tongue, idiot! Now you've gone and…

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. Knowing it belonged to Owen only made her face feel like it was being stuck into a forge fire.

"Celia? It's okay, I know how you feel…"

She turned her face towards him, and saw her dark eyes mirrored in his baby blue ones. She didn't open her mouth, but just stared at him. He didn't break the silence either, just leaned over until their noses were practically touching. His eyes loomed closer and closer until…

"Help?"

They sprang apart, and looked at the source of the sound. A disheveled girl in a rumpled dress had just arrived at the very doorstep of the fort. Somehow, the guards had missed her, though there were a pair of them heading towards her now. Celia and Owen reached her first.

"Please, help,"

"Miss, we're trying to. What's you're name?"

Celia let Owen handle the talking, while she examined the girl's normal-but-not clothes. They were noble quality, but unlike anything she'd seen at the Tortallan court. Maybe Gallan? But that was ages away…

"There's something wrong!"

"Yes, there probably is, now…"

The lady looked right at Celia, a panicked look in her eyes. "I- I think-"'

"Yes?"

"I think I'm- not in Emelan anymore…"

And she fainted into Owen's arms.

I know, cliqued, but what can you do?

(Well, a lot, but oh well:)

So, you hate it? Love it? Want to beat me to death with sticks? Then review!