Sethlzaar woke to the smell of roast meat wafting through the shelter as well as the absence of the old man. He stepped out, wondering if the old man had gone on his way. He found the snow elevated at least three feet high. A small path waded through it, an obvious track left behind by the man in his departure. Yet, the smell of meat followed through, up to the high ground. It left Sethlzaar with questions. Wondering what was going on, he cautiously climbed up to see what was above him. There he saw the old man. The man sat, roasting a snow hare over a flame in a small clearing. The smell was torture to an empty stomach, and Sethlzaar wondered if the man did it intentionally. "I didn't wish to wake you," the man called out, "but since you're up, I could use the company." No use hiding, Sethlzaar thought. He climbed up and joined the man at the fire. 

Father Tensril came for Sethlzaar at the rise of dawn, with the same Tarc that brought them. To Sethlzaar's surprise, he came with a sister of the convent. Together they rode in silence with another boy Sethlzaar recognized from the Seminary but not as a part of his group. The absence of Omage left his mind fearing the worst. The nun whom Saelin had called Sister Naele had waited outside as Father Tensril had walked into the shelter and woken them. The walk to the carriage after, had been done in shameful silence. They shared the carriage, and at some point the nun left them, going her separate way. Alone. On arrival at the seminary, Tensril instructed them into following him. He led them all the way to the Monsignor's chambers. It was Sethlzaar's first time in the room, and he was surprised to find it filled with books on every shelf covering most of the walls save the one behin

They were informed of the coming test a week to its arrival: The Test of self. No information was given, not a single detail was offered by anyone. The older children claimed it was different for each person. But one thing they all had in common was the fact that they all seemed reluctant to talk of it, and always seemed saddened by the memory it seemed to summon. Priestess Emeril had added a new regime to their training with the introduction of throwing knives. She hung a piece of wood from a high point and let it dangle, expecting them to hit the mark on the wood. As expected Sethlzaar proved himself the best, hitting the mark more times than his brothers.  "Do not strike at where it is, but at where it will be," she told them. It was similar to what Father Karnamis had taught them in hunting animals in the wild. They weren't always in place when hunted. Sometimes they would have to chase their prey and put it dow

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

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