A month after the test of self they grew out of their induced silence. Sethlzaar, growing out of his earlier, maintained the silence not to offend his brothers.
The month saw him awake at night to the sounds of cries and sudden night terrors, and the occasional creaking consolation of Soartin or Canabi's bed. Surprisingly, the darkness visited his dreams the least now. Notwithstanding, their training continued under the priests, their performance showing obvious progress, though tainted by whatever haunted them; residues of the test.
It was a month and two weeks after the test that a new dread haunted them. Everyone had grown out of the test and returned to their daily lives, but Canabi always seemed to pretend to have grown out of his. Sethlzaar often caught him staring at nothing, lost in thoughts as they engaged in friendly banter before they were required to put out the light.
One night, while returning from his esca
Ordan led Sethlzaar through the keep, and Sethlzaar, knowing the path, understood exactly where they were headed.Priestess Emeril was present in The Monsignor's chamber when they entered, and Sethlzaar had no preconceived notion of what was to transpire.Shrowl sat at his seat with the same blank expression and piercing eyes Sethlzaar knew him for, saying nothing as he leafed through the book before him. The books had grown in numbers since the last time Sethlzaar was here, and the three swords stared at him from their place behind the Monsignor."VI Sorlan," Shrowl finally addressed him after a period that seemed to go on for too long. "Priestess Emeril believes you have a talent with the bow. And she should know; she has a talent with it herself."Sethlzaar offered no response.As if disappointed at his absence of response, Genebac Shrowl sighed. He rubbed aging fingers agains
Sethlzaar woke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. Making his way out of the tent, he strolled around, finally coming upon a flame where a few adults were gathered, amongst whom was Sister Emeril, drinking and laughing and sharing tales.Avoiding detection, he wandered into the forest, finding a more serene and encompassing silence. Unlike the Seminary, where the silence seemed dead, this one seemed very much alive, almost as though it stayed awake with him. So alive did it seem that he felt he could hear it should he listen closely enough. Satisfied with his escape, he returned just in time to find Emeril asleep in the tent, wrapped only in a blanket, her curves evident. He found himself lost in its hypnotism with every slight movement she made in her slumber.Before dawn he made his way to the smithy in time to catch the blacksmith opening it. Making his way inside, Sethlzaar found his wood and blade unmoved from where he had left them.As the sun climbed to its peak, it f
Unlike their journey from the seminary, their journey back was eventful, filled with conversations and laughter, something Sethlzaar knew would end the moment they arrived at the seminary.From the moment they walked through the portcullis Sethlzaar found himself looking around for any sign of his mates as they made their way to the Monsignor's chambers. The meeting was brief and he was made to leave behind his metal bow, the last words of the Monsignor to him as he left being: "You are not a first bow till the day you become a priest of the seminary. And speak what you have seen to no one."...Maybe because you look like you have a lot of secrets, Canabi's words replayed in Sethlzaar's head, and he couldn't help but think secrets would make up the most of his lifeSethlzaar's mates welcomed him with a flurry of back claps and cheers save Cenam who had saved him a full and complete hug. Narvi, on the other hand,
The breeze brushed against his skin. The atmosphere, hot as the sun made it, did nothing to dry the sweat that soaked more than his face. The dry air grated at his nostrils with each intake of air and his lungs expelled them with a labor telling of their hate for it. They were clearly not designed for these parts of Ayla.Valerik rode through the dry and dusty lands of the southern villages of Umunari, far beyond the borders of the realm. This had been one of the reasons he had chosen the class of evangelist prior to his ordination. Scouring the reaches of Ayla, he met peoples he had not known existed. He doubted any other evangelists had gone as far from the realm as he had without express orders from the church.Rive picked up dust with each step but Valerik ignored it, knowing his destination lay not too far from where he was. He had passed through the village twice before, but then, he had stayed a full year. Today, however, he would onl
The child ran to Valerik and wrapped her arms around his neck. There she dangled till he held her. If the child had screamed any louder he would have needed to check his ears."Be quiet!" Okola chided the girl. "Your voice very loud!"Valerik settled the girl on the floor and she let him go. He looked down at the girl and she beamed back. It was strangely prideful to see how much she'd grown in the time he'd last seen her. She had only been seven when he'd met her."Dimma," he said. "How are you?""I'm fine. I've missed you." She spoke the realm tongue more fluently than Okola, and Valerik had a feeling that though he spent the better part of eleven months teaching it to her, her retained fluency in it was credited to the elder.Dimma had been the reason he'd crossed paths with the chief priest. He had met the girl in his last visit, a touched, which was rare in the village
The day after his return, Sethlzaar, taking permission from Father Ordan, made for the smithy of the seminary. It lay far to the west of the compound as a boundary between the grey towers and those not just brothers of the seminary but brothers of the church. On the outside it was made of stone, like the towers and buildings in the compound. Its insides, however, reminded Sethlzaar of the seminary vaults beneath the keep.Father Sigael asked no questions when he entered the smithy. The room proved hotter than that of Naelii's in the Sarkish forests and the priest put him to work on the forges almost immediately. When he'd worked with Naelii, his muscles had ached from never having been used in such manner but they seemed to have grown accustomed to the work in their might."Been in a forge before, have you?" Sigael asked him after a moment of observation."Yes, Father."The priest scratched his jaw.
Sethlzaar began using his veils with his brothers in the days that followed, the wooden sword becoming a thing of the past. They swung, parried, and thrusted, their veils proving more efficient than the wood as Father Ordan would remind them of how the accidental chopping off of an arm was not going to help any of them."A one armed man is useful to the seminary," Ordan told them. "But, it would rather have its priests complete." Whilst Narvi gained fame for his way with the sword, Sethlzaar gained fame for something more active and less discreet: his way with the bow. To the anger of Takaris, he proved himself capable of soaring even higher than his mates with it, something up to the moment of his display they did not believe possible.He displaced every target assigned him, be it stationary, aerial or in transit, hitting his every mark with relative ease and a mundane display of his mastery of the art, only adding a touch of flair when Priestess Emeril wasn't watching, drawing the
Sethlzaar turned his attention in the direction of the girl with the tray. To his expectation, Soartin was walking up to the serving girl and the man in his usual steps, regal and composed. It was something that made Sethlzaar suspect the boy's family was quite similar to royalty in Alifat, his posture more of a failed noble than a warrior, like the rest of them."The lady doesn't want you," Soartin told the man when he arrived there.The man's grip tightened before his attention turned to Soartin. "Sod off before I..." the rest of the sentence die in his mouth the moment his eyes met Soartin.Releasing the girl's waist, the man frowned then took a concentrated interest in the drink in front of him. It was a natural response, something Sethlzaar had discovered on their first outing.At first he had thought the people feared them but had soon come to correct himself: they didn't fear them, they feared