The feel of the seminary was a welcomed one. Sethlzaar and his brothers had given up their cloaks for white cassocks, ones, unlike those of the official cassocks of the priests, was without capes, and now they resided in a tower west of the compound, beyond the smithy. Despite the heights of the towers they now lived in, the ones they had lived in for so long dwarfed them considerably.  There was a new addition to their training. It encompasse

“In the next six months,” Monsignor Shrowl told them, “you will be prepared for the test of the hunt.” It was late in the month of Martis and the snow from the winter had thawed, giving way for the green grass and the warm way. They stood in front of the dining hall, clad in their white cassocks as the Monsignor addressed them. 

Sethlzaar held back his ire at the sound of whistling. It was an odd strategy as far as strategies went, and only served to reveal the whistler’s location. Obviously, that was the intent.The time of day was difficult to discern considering the kooliga forest was always dark. But the seminary had released them sometime towards dusk, so it was safe to assume night was drawing nigh. Sethlzaar held back a sigh. A month ago the seminary had started them on a new training, a mock test of sorts. It was a battle test where each tower was pitted against the other in the vast expanse of the Kooliga forest. The time of day was not fixed, and Sethlzaar had a

Cenam led them before the crack of dawn. He followed the trail through the day as they tracked under the summer heat, while Sethlzaar brought down any prey that crossed their path, from the hares burrowing into the dirt to the birds soaring the skies a little too low.They filled their canteens anytime they came across puddles, which proved rare. The trail turned at intervals, heading east, then north. Soon they lost track of where they had begun following it.

Father Ordan came at the fourth hour with a cassock for each of them. He met them awake, and waiting, fully clothed with veils strapped in place. Only Sethlzaar carried a bow. "Get to it," he told them. "Best get you lot out of my hair."