"Heart, get me that flask!!" cried a head healer. Livia rushed to a shelf, grabbed it, and ran back. She felt herself falling. She attempted to balance herself, but her long legs tripped themselves. The flask went flying, but the healer caught it just in time. He swore. "Heart, you MUST work on controlling yourself!" he yelled. Livia, red faced, bowed herself to another cot. Livia looked down. The boy there had just come in. He was that one that was brand new, not many months into his pageship. She wanted to cure him...a deep fire welled up within her, but she tried to ignore it.

"What's ailing you, boy?" she asked. "Broke leg. Fell down." he muttered. "Now, you got into a fight, didn't you?" Livia knew the classic excuse even though she wasn't a page. She heard it every day from pages and squires that came in with bruises and the like. The boy lifted the corner of his mouth. Livia guessed it was a smile. "Which leg?" Livia asked. The boy pointed to his right leg. Livia put her hand on the leg, only meaning to find out where it was broken. Blood-red fire suddenly exploded out of her hand and covered the page's leg before disappearing. Everyone stared. "Erm," Livia muttered. The healer spoke. "Heart, you healed him. I think you have the Gift. Moderate, but the Gift." Everyone was still staring, even the young noblewomen visiting. Livia shrank back, more embarassed than she had ever been in her life.