Valerik's request did nothing to quell the urge to escape. Sethlzaar stood a while. In time his feet shuffled along the ground, picking up dirt and staining an already dirty footwear he could only assume was unpleasing to the eyes. He never prided himself in his patience, but the strength that came with silence had always borne patience behind it. In the mist, however, that patience proved to elude him. He stood for what seemed hours. Eventually, his legs shook from fatigue. Valerik had asked him not to leave where he stood, but the man never demanded he remain standing. So, shuffling his feet and clearing the floor beneath him, he sat on the dirt. The mist continued its swirl around him. He soon began finding a companionship with it. It cascaded over him, leaving no sign of its existence on his skin. But he felt it like a motherly touch even if it was one he conjured up for the sake of his sanity, that he may not lose i

Minutes felt like hours and, as it stretched into hours, it seemed to go on forever. They labored under the bright sun in their repetitive strikes under Ordan's command. Ordan had them line up after an unending length of time spent on arm jarring strikes and Sethlzaar studied his wooden sword as they waited for their next command. He knew very little about swords, and he knew even less about the various designs. The only weapons to ever appeal to him lived in his memory of his journey and the scabbard of the darkness. He had snuck into Groc's study at one point in time and had seen the different swords hung on the wall, most of them had been longer than he had been tall. They'd all presented themselves in various sizes, sharpened on both sides. It gave them a double-edged ferocity. But what had caught Sethlzaar's eye was neither them nor the elegantly curved swords with the inscription sword of Tarr crossed over each oth

Sethlzaar made to rejoin what was left of the group, but his pride served to keep him in place where he fell to his knees.He rose to his feet. They trembled in fear. Cautiously, he waded through the mist, finding only more of it with each step. As he wandered, he considered the possibility of Narvi and Cenam being the last a conscious choice of the priests. He decided that if he was to place a wager on who would be the last out of the group it would be on Cenam.The sound of a twig snapping pushed panic into his mind. It sent him on a panicked sprint through the mist. Slowly, the mist thinned into nothingness.He sidestepped a tree as his vision cleared, narrowly avoiding it. A stray branch hit him in the face immediately after. He crashed to the ground, like a discarded log.Sprawled on the floor, he opened his eyes. The sun was at its peak. The direction with which the light bore through the shades of the trees w

Antuas took Sethlzaar by the shoulder and covered him in a thick cloak. He led him through the gates and into the fort. They walked past the field, and Sethlzaar watched the first light of day covet the sky. He knew he was the last of the participants to walk through the gates. On their arrival at the walls Antuas took the cloak off him. "We don't want the others thinking you get special treatment," he said smiling. "Now go on. You are to remain in your room like the rest of your mates until you all are called for." Sethlzaar walked into the compound as the portcullis was raised, alone, and filled with a loss of achievement. One year and it still doesn't feel like home. The group he met in the room was not too surprising. Cenam was rested on his bed with a certain care free nature he only displayed in the wild, Narvi was biting his nails, something Sethlzaar had noticed the boy only did when

The snow fell, and Ayla drowned in it. Their lessons with Father Karnamis increased, adding Elsahel to its day of training. Karnamis proved more dedicated to their lessons than they expected. He seemed to worry for them more than usual. It was not their first winter in the seminary, and they had different garments for winter, with a cloak made of animal fur to keep them warm, or at least from freezing to death. Sometimes it seemed as if the priest forgot this. Karnamis taught them that when in a group, hurdling together was the best way to keep warm. This was something they already knew; a knowledge long since possessed. Canabi and Soartin often slept on the same bed during the winter, sometimes outside the winter. Sethlzaar often wondered if warmth was all they did it for. It troubled him because they risked the consequences of getting caught, as the punishments were severe. Their second test took p