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 life Sethlzaar'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 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

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

Their fourth year in the seminary saw them prepared for the test of speech under the tutelage of Father Ulaka. They rose at the fourth hour and attended mass. The fifth hour would see them swimming and climbing as they had done in preparation of the test of self with Father Antuas. In the room they would sit in decency, a posture that made them look the part of civilized boys, forced upon them by Father Ulaka.All their years they always wondered how Father Antuas always sat awaiting their arrival in the room. It was obvious that the priest climbed but they had never beheld it. Father Ulaka proved a priest that, if not anything, was perpetual in his tardiness for their lesson, never arriving on time, or later than thirty minutes. What annoyed them most was in the way he carried himself, walking the room as he taught them in superiority as though he had not climbed up the edge of the room before their very eyes. Late.Having only worn his cassock on

In the month of Martis, third of the year, they took to the horse under the tutelage of Father Bjorg. He proved adept at understanding the animals and possessed an in-depth experience with the skill. But while he was a skilled instructor, he seemed to favor the safety of the horses over the lives of the brothers. The horses presented before them were stallions no older than two years. Bjorg over saw the pairing, observing as they picked their mounts from the stalls. Omage opting for a chestnut which somehow looked graceful, earned himself a slap from the priest, something they learned in time