Skwyr Court

Kurgm sat in the gardens the next day with Master Ekla and his newest attempt to be a normal, functioning person.

With them was a girl, Tabonda, who was in tears. As far as Kurgm could understand through the blubbering, the fifth-year apprentice had caught her boyfriend kissing another girl. Also as far as he could tell, this was not the first time she’d caught him doing so.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she sobbed. “I’m good to him. I let him come back when he apologizes and promises not to do it again. He brought me earrings last time, and cleaned himself up, and looked so handsome in a brand new tunic his parents had bought him. But then he… he… he was kissing that… that…”

“While you’re choosing your words,” Master Ekla said, “let’s try to keep this civil.”

“That tramp!”

“Or we can resort to name calling,” Kurgm said.

“She is! She’s from Alforn, they’re all like that! You can’t trust any of them!”

That sounded like Amnadm. Was he right? Were the people of Skwyr the only ones they could trust?

Kurgm came back to reality and realized Master Ekla was staring at him. He tried to think of something positive to say. The first thing that popped into his head was Daylarl. He was from Alforn, and he was alright.

Although, Aonva had said he’d taught Roshil that breaking and entering was fine so long as you didn’t get caught, so maybe he isn’t the best example to lead with.

“They’re not all bad,” he tried.

He caught Master Ekla giving him a significant glance that he understood to mean “right, but not the point”.

At least I can figure out what she’s trying to tell me.

“I mean… that was awful what she was doing.”

“I know! With her hair all done up and covered in makeup.”

“She sounds awful.”

“She does,” Master Ekla said, “but have you considered that maybe you shouldn’t go back to your boyfriend?”

“But… he’s so sweet, and he buys me the nicest jewelry.”

“How many times has he done this sort of thing?” Master Ekla asked.

Tabonda sniffed, then blew her nose in a handkerchief. “I’m not sure.” She started counting something on her person. Looking closer, Kurgm saw she was counting jewelry.

Starting to notice a pattern here.

“Seven. Wait! Eight. I forgot the dress he got me.”

Master Ekla gave him her “you can take this one” look.

“If it’s about the things he gets you, there’s got to be someone else that can do that.”

Master Ekla’s face changed to exasperated. Once again, he’d gotten it wrong.

“Every time he does this, he buys you jewelry or clothes,” Master Ekla said. “You take him back, then within I’m going to guess a week, this whole thing starts over again. Right? This time he’ll come back with something expensive, promise to never do it again, and you’ll take him back, again.”

“Um…”

“Then after you two finish your apprenticeships here, which, considering you’re in your final year and are back at the castle means you’re finished soon — and keep in mind that you don’t know what he got up to while you two were on your fifth-year assignments in different towns — maybe you two get married. He buys you a nice dress, his family pays for a nice wedding, and you two settle down only for him to do this again. After a year or two of finding out that he’s been with every willing woman in town, all you have left is the shattered remains of your self-esteem and a lot of expensive things. Given that he doesn’t seem good at making smart choices, I imagine that when his parents leave him the family business, it will go under in a matter of days, if not hours, meaning not only will he not be able to buy you nice things, but you’ll have to sell the ones you already have.”

Both Tabonda and Kurgm stared at Master Ekla.

“You’ll eventually grow numb to this feeling,” she continued, “so get out now before it’s too late. Are your parents aware of any of this?”

“Of course. They like him.”

“Any parents that are aware of a man breaking their daughter’s heart repeatedly and are okay with him don’t care enough about their daughter. No, they like his family’s money. You aren’t something that can be bought and sold. You’re better than that, Apprentice Tabonda. You deserve happiness.”

Tabonda sniffed and dabbed at her eyes.

“You think so?”

Master Ekla took her hands. “I know so. Find a man that makes you happy, not one that makes you feel like this. No matter what your parents say. No matter how many expensive things he buys you, it’s not worth it.”

Tabonda stood up with a smile on her face.

“Thank you both so much.”

“Happy to help,” Master Ekla said.

“Good luck,” Kurgm added.

Master Ekla waited until she’d gone before talking again.

“Questions?”

“Several. How did you know all that?”

“It’s the story of every upper-class man and middle-class woman. Man’s family sends him to the court so we’ll educate him in something they need for the family business, usually an artisan, then pull him out before he completes his apprenticeship so he doesn’t have to serve the court for the rest of his life. We have to tolerate them because we need the family’s cooperation because the court doesn’t run itself. The woman’s family sends her to the court hoping that she’ll meet a rich man and make them all wealthy. Failing that, they can boast about their court-trained daughter at parties where they’re hoping to marry her off.”

She stood up.

“Come on. Time to go.”

“But… how do you know that?”

“Our Lord True Knight told me when I was his apprentice, and I’ve seen it time and again since becoming a master. It’s unfortunate, and I imagine the officers try to weed them out as best they can, but there’s only so much we can do. Our Lady Arch Mage probably saw something in Apprentice Tabonda that she liked, or wanted to get her away from her family to help her self-esteem and show her a better way. That’s why so many of the women in these situations are mages; Our Lady Arch Mage tries to help them.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be that good,” Kurgm said.

“You’re only in your third year here. There’s always plenty to learn.”

“But… it’s more than that. I can’t listen and think of an answer at the same time. I can’t seem to say the right thing with anyone other than Aonva.”

At least, I used to.

“It takes practice. Stop comparing yourself to other people.”

“My mother, Our Lord True Knight, my uncle, you…”

“Your uncle isn’t…” She stopped walking at the door to the castle. “I only had to think briefly about what I was going to say because I’ve said it to people over and over again. People are unique, but their problems aren’t. The question isn’t ‘What’s the solution?’, it’s ‘How do I phrase the solution so she’ll understand?’ Next time we run into that situation, you’ll be able to handle it better.”

“That’s what you said the last time we had a common problem. And the time before that.”

“And the time before that. This takes hard work and practice to get right. And don’t start complaining about how I did this faster. I—”

Without warning, she stopped talking and stared into space. Kurgm had seen this before; someone was sending her a message.

She held her hands to her mouth and whispered into them, then blew sparks out of her hand.

“Is everything alright?” Kurgm asked.

Master Ekla held up a finger to keep him silent. She took a few breaths (which Kurgm knew to mean someone was giving her orders), then sent another message.

“Come on.” She stepped into the castle without waiting for him to follow.

Kurgm ran to catch up with her fast pace.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re escorting an apprentice.”

Kurgm frowned. They’d never been asked to do that before.

“Why?”

“Because this particular apprentice isn’t allowed to walk the corridors unsupervised, and her master is busy.”

“And we’re not?”

“Not busy enough to ignore an order from an officer.”

When they arrived at the forge, Kurgm realized it was obvious who the apprentice in question was. At least, it would’ve been obvious to anyone with half a brain, which he clearly lacked. An apprentice whose master was an officer meant only two apprentices that he knew of: Roshil and Oshal.

“She’s just going to class,” Lord Grund said. “I’ve got orders to fulfill.”

“We’ll get her there, no problem,” Master Ekla said.

Roshil kept her gaze down. Her hair covered part of her face, something Kurgm didn’t think apprentices were even allowed to do, keeping herself unkempt. Maybe not unkempt, but untidy.

She doesn’t belong here, his uncle’s words echoed.

Master Ekla motioned toward the door, and Kurgm and Roshil followed her out of the forge. Once they were out, she walked between them.

Why do you think that dragon attacked her? They don’t just pick people at random.

Kurgm wanted to ask Roshil while he had the chance. He’d hardly seen her at all in the past few weeks. Maybe if he worded it right, it wouldn’t upset anyone.

Did it matter if he upset Roshil? Master Ekla might care, but why? After what Roshil had done to Aonva, did it matter if he rattled her a little? It wouldn’t be that bad just to ask her, would it? The worst she could do would be to ignore him, and everyone would be fine.

“Roshil—”

“Quiet, both of you,” Master Ekla said. “We’re walking Apprentice Roshil to class, then we’re going about our business.”

Kurgm knew the no nonsense expression on Master Ekla’s face. He’d have to wait to talk to Roshil. If he ate in the great hall, he’d see her again. As they walked into the school, he started to make a plan.

#VolumeTwo #AskingQuestions

That night, Kurgm ate in the great hall. He sat down and waited for Roshil to arrive. Just like the previous night, she arrived with the officers.

Master Ekla had said that Roshil wasn’t allowed to walk the corridors unsupervised. Kurgm hadn’t realized exactly how strict the officers were about enforcing it. Why had they called Master Ekla? What about another officer? Were they all busy?

Kurgm decided that didn’t matter. Roshil sat down at the same table as him, the same table she had yesterday, in the same spot.

Everyone rose when the officers walked in, and took their seats again when His Majesty sat down.

Food appeared, teleported up from the kitchens. Kurgm briefly wondered where Aonva was. Was she sitting alone in the kitchens? Had she opted to skip dinner entirely? Knowing her, she might have.

Roshil took some food from the middle of the table. Considering how much she normally ate — Kurgm was surprised she never seemed to grow any bigger — she must not have been that hungry. She proceeded to pick at her food.

“Roshil.”

She looked up when he called her name. He slid down a few seats to sit opposite her.

“Why did that dragon curse you?”

Roshil froze for a moment, then glanced at the officers sitting at the head of the great hall.

“I… I don’t know. It just did.”

Her voice was wavering. Did that mean she was lying?

“Dragons don’t just pick people out at random. It must’ve—”

“Oh, you’re here.”

Sirshi walked up and took a seat next to Roshil.

“You’re late,” Kurgm said.

“I was busy,” Sirshi shot back.

Considering how calm she always looked in the temple, Kurgm found it startling to see her so hostile.

“I finished early, and thought ‘Hey, I haven’t seen Roshil at temple in a while, maybe she’s in the great hall.’”

A flicker of a smile appeared on Roshil’s face, and she stabbed the meat on her plate with a little more enthusiasm.

She can’t even eat like a normal person.

“So what are we talking about?” Sirshi asked.

Kurgm adjusted his glasses. “Roshil was cursed by a dragon.”

“Really?” Sirshi gasped. “Truly? Honestly? You mean it?”

Kurgm glared at her. He knew she’d known already. Unlike him, she’d probably learned it from Roshil herself, rather than having to be told by Aonva. In fact, he wasn’t sure if Aonva and Sirshi had ever really spoken to one another.

“It didn’t pick her out at random. There must’ve been a reason for it.”

“I don’t know,” Roshil said, keeping her eyes on her food. “Why does it matter? It did it.”

“Did you ask it to?”

“Why would she do that?” Sirshi snapped, raising her voice. “What kind of lunatic would ask a dragon to curse them?”

“It must’ve had a reason,” Kurgm said, trying to direct his attention toward Roshil, who was trying to ignore them both in favor of her food that she wasn’t eating.

“Maybe it just found her. Who knows? Who cares?”

“She cursed Aonva. I just want to know why, and what else the curse might have done to her.”

“What?” Sirshi’s gaze darted between Roshil and Kurgm. She pushed her hair out of her face. “That’s ridiculous. Roshil wouldn’t do that.”

“She did, and now Aonva’s not herself. I want to know what else she did.”

Before Sirshi could raise her voice again, Master Ekla appeared over them.

“You three,” she said, keeping her voice down, “follow me.”

Of the three of them, Roshil was the only one who didn’t try arguing. Sirshi started to shout, Kurgm started to protest, but Master Ekla silenced them both with a glare that could’ve frightened the sky into turning green.

Master Ekla led them out of the great hall. Kurgm tried to ignore the people watching them leave and hoped he wouldn’t be hearing about that from Master Ekla later. They walked through the corridors into one of the study rooms. Master Ekla pulled chairs out from around the room and pointed at them in turn as she did.

“Now,” she said, still standing, “what happened?”

Sirshi and Kurgm started talking over one another, something Sirshi was much better at doing than Kurgm.

“Stop.” Master Ekla turned to Sirshi. “Apprentice Sirshi.”

“Your apprentice was lying about Roshil and asking her about the dragon that cursed her.”

“What? I didn’t lie.”

“You said Roshil cursed Aonva. They’re best friends or whatever!”

Master Ekla turned her neutral frown on Kurgm. “Why did you say Apprentice Roshil cursed Apprentice Aonva?”

“I was there.”

“When was this?”

“A few weeks ago. Remember? I messaged you afterward?”

“You mean the bracelet?”

“Yes!” Kurgm exclaimed, happy someone finally understood him. What was wrong with everyone?

“That wasn’t a curse. Apprentice Roshil enchanted a bracelet and knowingly gave it to Apprentice Aonva. Her punishment is being handled by her master, as it should be. Beyond that, it’s none of your concern.”

Sirshi looked from Kurgm, to Master Ekla, to Roshil, who’d been quiet the entire time. If Kurgm had to guess, she looked a little confused.

“The term ‘curse’ is assigned to permanent, negative effects, such as the one on Apprentice Roshil. What Apprentice Roshil did to Apprentice Aonva is called ‘enchanting’. Do not confuse the two. Had Apprentice Roshil cursed Apprentice Aonva, she would’ve been exiled from the court.”

Roshil sank lower in her chair. For a moment, Kurgm felt a little sorry for her. It passed when she remembered how Aonva had been acting for the past few weeks.

“But you didn’t,” Master Ekla said, turning to Roshil. “Everyone will be fine.”

“But what if that wasn’t the end of it?” Kurgm asked, thinking of all the times Aonva had talked about Roshil still. All the attention she kept paying her, all the times Aonva had thought about going back to Roshil. “What if—”

“Then Master Kaernin and Our Lord High Artisan will work it out.” Master Ekla shot a significant glance at Roshil, whose vacant gaze was trained on the floor.

“So stop picking on Roshil!” Sirshi snapped, adding a voice to the glance.

Kurgm moved his focus between Sirshi and Master Ekla, then settled on Roshil. Why was everyone defending her as if she’d done nothing wrong? Hadn’t she broken the rules? Why wasn’t she being punished?

No, Master Ekla said she was. She has to be supervised at all times. That’s punishment enough, I guess. But what about Aonva? She’s still suffering, isn’t she?

There was a knock at the door. They all turned to see Master Moudren standing at the entrance to the study room.

“Master Moudren,” Master Ekla said. “Thank you for coming. Would you please take Apprentices Roshil and Sirshi back to the great hall?”

“Is that it?” Sirshi asked. “Kurgm does all of this, and—”

“Apprentice Sirshi,” Master Moudren said, “please allow Master Ekla to handle this.”

Sirshi glared at her sister, but stood at attention nonetheless. Then she and Roshil followed Master Moudren out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“I’m glad you’re asking questions,” Master Ekla said, taking Sirshi’s seat beside Kurgm, “but just like earlier, you have to consider the effects your words will have on other people.”

“I know,” Kurgm said, hoping to head off the impending lecture. All he wanted was to go back to eating his food, which would be sitting next to Roshil and Sirshi, the latter of whom might eat it out of spite.

“You should understand the difference between an enchantment and curse. Even if you’re not a mage, it’s important not to confuse the two of them.”

“I told Master Amnadm what happened, and he called it a curse.”

“Master Amnadm knows?”

Master Ekla seemed alarmed by the news. What was so bad about his uncle knowing about what had happened to Aonva?

Although according to him, I shouldn’t have feelings for Aonva.

“Please don’t talk about what happened with anyone else apart from myself, Apprentice Aonva, or an officer. Is that understood?”

Kurgm didn’t entirely understand why he couldn’t talk about it with his uncle, but if Master Ekla was ordering him not to, she must’ve had a good reason for it. Even when she was an apprentice, she’d had a reason behind everything she’d done.

“Yes.”

“Good. I apologize if I didn’t make that clear before. Also, don’t ask Roshil about the dragon.”

“Master Amnadm said some people seek out dragons. That maybe—”

“Apprentice Roshil didn’t ask that thing to—” Master Ekla breathed in and out, visibly relaxing. “That’s not what happened. I repeat: Do. Not. Ask. About. The dragon.”

“But—”

“Apprentice Kurgm, I understand you’re not the best at understanding subtle cues, but I thought I made it very clear in my voice that no part of that was a suggestion.”

Kurgm was taken aback by her sudden rebuke, but understood that it wasn’t the time to ask questions.

Maybe I can get the hang of it.

“I understand.”

“Good. I’m sorry for snapping at you, but it’s a sensitive subject. We’re lucky it didn’t get worse.”

Kurgm nodded. He didn’t know the details of Roshil’s curse, nor what the dragon had done to her, but if Master Ekla said it wasn’t a good idea to talk about it, then he wouldn’t keep bringing it up.

“Aonva keeps talking about Roshil, like she’s going to go back to being friends with her. What if Roshil does that again?”

“They never stopped being friends,” Master Ekla replied. “You’ve only ever really known adults. I know it seems like we don’t make mistakes, but we make plenty. What’s important is that when we make them, we acknowledge and learn from them. That’s how we grow. Apprentice Roshil has done exactly that, and Apprentice Aonva is willing to forgive her. It won’t happen again.” She motioned to the door. “In the future, if you have doubts, please bring them to me first.”

“I will,” Kurgm said as they left the room.

They found his uncle standing outside, being his usual, cheery self.

“Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” Master Ekla said.

“Kurgm—”

“Apprentice Kurgm,” Master Ekla corrected.

“Of course. Apprentice Kurgm, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be leaving tonight. The court’s sending me south.”

“Oh.” Kurgm was a little sad to see his uncle go when he’d only just returned.

“Take care of yourself for me,” his uncle continued. “And remember everything we’ve talked about.”

“I will.”

His uncle gave him a brief hug, then turned and left.

“Remember what we talked about too,” Master Ekla said after Amnadm had disappeared down the corridor. “Adults make mistakes. And if you have any doubts, please bring them to me first.”

He looked up at Master Ekla and smiled. He’d known her most of his life, and knew her well enough to know she always knew what to do.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to the great hall before my sister eats your food out of spite.”

Kurgm followed Master Ekla back to the great hall, feeling a lot better about everything than he had that morning. He hoped Aonva was alright, wherever she was. He’d have to find her after dinner. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for them to spend time with Roshil again.

#VolumeTwo #AskingQuestions

Three Years Ago

Sirshi sat in her room and stared out the window. There was nothing else to do. Her parents had discovered her stockpile of books about the temples of Skwyr and confiscated them. She wasn’t allowed to leave until she “saw reason”. She saw reason just fine, it was her parents that couldn’t see it.

Her stomach growled. She felt lightheaded, but every time she thought about eating, she remembered how at home she felt in the Temple of the Rising Sun. She would get her way. If not, her parents wouldn’t have to deal with what a disappointment they thought she was.

Someone knocked on her door. She ignored it.

“Sirshi,” her mother called. “Sirshi, come and eat.”

Sirshi looked at the second bed in her room. Ekla always got what she wanted. She was a master knight, but still they left her bed made in case she ever wanted to stay with them. If they ever got rid of Sirshi, she knew her bed would be gone the next day.

“You’re not becoming a priest,” her mother called. “Give up and come eat. You haven’t had anything all day, you must be hungry by now.”

I can outlast you, mother. You and father.

Her mother tried the door again, but the shelf Sirshi had pushed against it held.

“Open this door!”

Sirshi lied back in her bed. Her parents had been at this all day, and they’d gotten nowhere. She was determined to outlast them, and she knew she could.

“Come out and eat!” her father yelled, taking over.

She’d stopped talking to them days ago when they’d told her she was going to be an apprentice knight instead of an apprentice priest like she wanted. They’d stormed her room and taken her books. She was forbidden from going to the temples anymore, not that they’d known that she was going before she’d told them. They didn’t care about her. They were too busy fawning over Ekla. Their favorite daughter. She and Ekla didn’t even have the same mother, but you’d never know from watching their family.

Sirshi thought about the temple and wondered if Master Moudren was there. Only the head priest stayed there all day, but Master Moudren helped tend everything. Maybe she was still there. And there was all the practice they had to do, remembering the rites and rituals to pay homage to Olmgra. Everything her parents said was a waste of time.

Olmgra gave her hope. Hope that her parents would give in and let her become an apprentice priest. Hope that she could be like Master Moudren some day. She wanted to be Master Moudren’s apprentice, and she held onto that hope, no matter how unlikely it was. Ekla had dreams too; she went on about how she wanted to be Lady True Knight one day, like her master, the current Lord True Knight, or maybe even queen. If Ekla could have dreams, why couldn’t Sirshi?

---

Present Day

The one part about being a priest of Olmgra that Sirshi didn’t like was having to wake up so early. She kept thinking she would get used to it, but she still wanted to hurl her identification orb across the room.

“Stupid bauble!” she shouted at it when it went off that morning. She still climbed out of bed and got ready, lest she be late and disappoint Master Moudren. It’d taken her a few days into her apprenticeship to get over her impulse to be late to spite her parents, but when Master Moudren was disappointed in her, it really got to her.

She hurried through the corridors, not caring if anyone shouted at her to stop running. When she arrived at the temple, Master Moudren was waiting for her.

“I’m here!” Sirshi shouted as she came to a stop. “I’m not late!”

She stopped to catch her breath.

“Good morning, Apprentice Sirshi,” Master Moudren said in her calm, kind voice. “Please put your robes on and meet me in my office. You’re not in trouble, but I have something about which I’d like to talk to you.”

Sirshi went to the storeroom with all the robes in it. She picked hers out and pulled it over herself. The blue and gold patterns glittered in the orblight as she adjusted the sleeves. If anything wasn’t straight (she always missed something), Master Moudren would tell her, but not like her parents did.

She pushed her parents out of her mind as she walked. They weren’t her problem anymore; like Ekla, they wouldn’t dare step foot in a temple.

“Master Moudren.” Sirshi stood at attention in Master Moudren’s office. Books lined the shelves behind Master Moudren’s desk. A picture of Olmgra smiled down on everyone who entered, illuminated by orbs around the small room.

“Thank you for coming,” Master Moudren said. She stood up and started adjusting Sirshi’s robes. “I wanted to talk to you about Apprentice Roshil. That was very kind the way you stood up for her yesterday.”

Sirshi held up her arms to keep them out of Master Moudren’s way. “Oh. Thanks.”

Hearing Kurgm lie about Roshil like that had brought up her parents again.

The temples don’t do anything for the court.

The deities never help us, so why waste time on them?

Maybe that’s why she’d been thinking about them again. She clamped down on it, trying to keep her anger down. Why did Kurgm have to drag it up again?

“Master Ekla sends her apologies for her apprentice,” Master Moudren said as she finished fixing Sirshi’s robes. “I know she’s not your favorite person, but she did sound sorry.”

“Well, that makes it all better,” Sirshi muttered, taking her arms down.

“I didn’t ask you here to talk about your sister.”

“Half-sister.”

“Of course. I don’t think you notice the way Apprentice Roshil is around you.”

“That’s just how she is. There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“I never said there was. I meant, I believe she has feelings for you.”

“What? No, she doesn’t. She just likes fixing things.”

“Perhaps you should talk to her, just to make sure.”

“Okay.” Sirshi wasn’t convinced that anyone liked her that way, but if Master Moudren thought so, there was bound to be a reason. This was already the best conversation about her and dating she’d ever had. All the others had included some variation on the phrase “How are you ever going to find a man to marry you when you act like that?”

Even better than that, Master Moudren didn’t ask her about boys. Sirshi’s parents had started asking her when she turned 11, and the answer had always been the same: No. They didn’t pester Ekla like that, so why did they have to pester her? No one had ever caught her eye, but her parents refused to accept that. As always, they assumed she was lying to them, and scolded her for it.

Sirshi pushed them out of her head again and focused on the Sun Welcoming Ceremony and Roshil. Roshil wouldn’t be upset if Sirshi said she wasn’t interested, would she? Since when did Sirshi start to care about upsetting people when she talked to them?

Well, Roshil is my only friend. Also Oshal.

After the Sun Welcoming Ceremony, Sirshi helped clear away the spare mats, then grabbed a broom to start sweeping the floor.

“Sirshi?”

Kurgm was standing next to her, smiling for some reason. Maybe it was the ceremony. It always put Sirshi in a better mood.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“What? Oh, sure.”

She started sweeping the floor, hoping he’d leave if she ignored him, but he didn’t.

“I was… Aonva’s been off since what Roshil did, and I thought it might be some lingering effect.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, it was scary when it happened. I thought she might be in trouble, and then she seemed so different, and there was this whole thing after that.”

Sirshi swept dust into a pile, wondering if she could do the same to Kurgm.

“I thought there might’ve been more to it that Roshil hadn’t said.”

Sirshi nearly responded, but something told her that if she did, he’d only keep talking. At least he was aware enough to step out of her way.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but be careful about talking about the dragon that cursed her,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good. I mean… I’m still annoyed at her, but Master Ekla says it’s important.”

“Well, if she said so…”

He glanced at the door that led to the castle. “I should be going. Thanks for listening.”

“Make today a bright day,” she said automatically.

“Yeah.” Kurgm smiled. “You too.”

As Sirshi finished up her chores, she wondered about Roshil. Roshil couldn’t have feelings for her. No one had feelings for her. It made life simple, which was just how Sirshi liked her life. Why did anyone have to have feelings for her and make things complicated? Or at least it could’ve been someone she’d never met, so she could tell them off without feeling bad. Actually, when had she ever felt bad about telling someone off? Was being afraid of hurting someone’s feelings a normal friend thing?

If I had other friends, maybe I’d know. Oshal’s sort of a friend, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

She’d thought she and Kurgm were sort of friends, but she’d yelled at him without concern last night at dinner. Then again, the way he was treating Roshil, he was asking for it.

She put away the cleaning supplies, then took off her robe. She was about to leave when Master Moudren intercepted her with a letter in her hand.

“This just arrived for you.”

Sirshi took the letter and opened it. She had a bad feeling about this. No one ever wrote to her.

Sirshi,

Your mother and I have talked, and decided that it’s time you forgot about this nonsense of becoming a priest. We understand that you’re a teenager and that cries for attention are normal (although they weren’t for your sister), but this has gone on long enough.

You don’t have to leave the castle if you don’t want to, but if you stay, you must change specializations. You have two days to decide what you want to do instead. Why not be a knight like your sister?

Your Father

#VolumeTwo #DutyToOlmgraAndFamily

“He can’t do this!” Sirshi screamed. Her cries echoed out of Master Moudren’s office and out into the temple chambers.

“Parents are within their rights—”

“This is my life! He has no right to change it like this!”

“He’s your father.”

“So what? He’s never acted like it! Until I’d met Daylarl, I’d always assumed fathers were supposed to be controlling and stupid and not care at all! I thought I’d left that behind when I came here, but oh no, he has to find some way to control me even here!”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about.”

“Can’t you tell him ‘no’? He can’t make me change specializations! I don’t want to be a knight, or a mage, or whatever else he’s going to make me be! I want to be a priest!”

“And if I had my way, you would continue to be, but parents are within their rights to change the specializations of their children.”

An idea came to her, something she would’ve liked to have thought of earlier.

“Then I’ll just change it back without telling him!”

“If an apprentice requests a change in specialization, the court must inform the apprentice’s guardians.”

“So my parents can make me be something I don’t want to be?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“That’s what it sounds like!”

“There’s an application process, and the court may recommend against any changes. When changing specializations, the officer of the apprentice’s new specialization may still reject the application, just as for a new apprentice.”

“There! If they reject it—”

“Then you simply would no longer be an apprentice. I’m sorry, Apprentice Sirshi, truly I am. But all I can do is recommend against the change. The decision still lies with your parents.”

“Why don’t I get a say?”

“There are two difficult situations the court may end up in. The first is that an apprentice is choosing a specialization that their parents argue against, the second is that the parents choose a specialization that is no good for the apprentice. When the court is caught between a dispute between an apprentice and her parents, we don’t want to be seen as taking sides. Therefore, all I can do is look to the court’s interests. I can stress that it would be in the best interests of the court for you to remain as a priest, but that is all.”

Sirshi wanted to keep screaming, but she knew it wouldn’t do her any good. It wasn’t as though Master Moudren wanted her gone. Some sensible part of her brain reminded her of that.

In spite of everything, she kept thinking of Roshil. Her friend needed help, even if Sirshi wasn’t sure how to provide it. She was supposed to raise peoples’ spirits, but she wasn’t good at it yet.

I have to keep trying. I can’t let her or Master Moudren down.

More anger squeezed into her head. She wanted to be a priest of Olmgra. That was all. Helping Roshil shouldn’t have been her responsibility, but something in her kept telling her it was. Was this what having friends would be like? Dealing with needy people all the time? She clearly had her own problems.

She needs you, something in her head told her. Her conscience? She hated that thing. Why did people have to… she didn’t know. Exist? Wasn’t that what they did? She’d managed to ignore them for 15 years so far.

“Are you calm?” Master Moudren asked.

“I don’t know. I’m still angry.”

“I promise I will do everything I can. I will speak with Our Lady Exalted Priest later today.”

It calmed her down a little to remember how her parents had treated Lady Runslo when she’d arrived for Sirshi’s apprenticeship interview. They’d had to speak outside because her parents refused to let her in. Sirshi had decided then that she liked Lady Runslo, if only because her parents had hated her.

Why now? Why do they have to do this now?

That question stuck with her, burrowing into her head like a worm. Why were her parents doing this now? What had changed? Had they finally decided that she was serious about it?

“Why are they doing this now?”

“I don’t know that asking that question will help,” Master Moudren replied. “Apprentice Sirshi, believe me, if there were anything I could do, I’d be doing it now. I’ve already told you everything I know. I hope, should the worst come to pass, that you will still attend the ceremonies.”

Sirshi wanted to stay in the temple, but could she? Could she watch some other apprentice performing the ceremonies in her place? She hated the idea of someone else having what she so desperately wanted. Master Moudren was the first person in her life that had cared what she wanted. Olmgra gave her hope that she’d matter to someone. She didn’t matter to her family.

I matter to Master Moudren. And to Roshil and Oshal.

Another pang of guilt pushed its way past the anger. It was hard to tell anymore, but she was afraid that she’d made Roshil worse. What if that’s all she did?

“Why does this have to be happening now?”

Master Moudren got up from behind her desk. Like Ekla, she was always calm, but there was never condescension in her. She wasn’t arrogant like Ekla, she was kind, like Olmgra herself.

“As dark as tomorrow may be, today can still be bright.”

Sirshi bottled up her anger. She nodded and allowed Master Moudren to lead her back into the temple proper. They lit candles and prayed to Olmgra to give them hope for tomorrow. All the while, the same question sat in Sirshi’s mind: “Why now?”

The question stuck with her all day. As she came and went from the Temple of the Rising Sun, it stuck with her. As she sat bored in class, it stuck with her. Master Moudren might’ve been right; maybe it wouldn’t help her to know the answer. Even if that was true, Sirshi felt like she was doing something.

She went to dinner that night, on time for once. The possibility that Master Moudren was already lessening her duties occurred to her, but she tried not to consider it. Master Moudren wasn’t like her parents.

She sat down in the same place she had the previous night. No one was sitting near her, which was fine by her. She didn’t want random apprentices trying to be friends with her. Most of them didn’t try, but she never trusted weavers or knights.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Oshal sitting with some other apprentices. At least he was having a good time. Could he sense how annoyed she was?

Roshil walked in and stopped when she saw Sirshi. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she continued and took a seat opposite her.

Before Sirshi could say anything, the officers entered the great hall. Everyone rose with their arrival, then took their seats when His Majesty took his.

“Hi, Sirshi.”

Like the previous night, Roshil’s hair was covering most of her face. Sirshi had been lectured by Master Daktra the last time she’d done that.

“Hi, Roshil. Um…” What did normal people say when they were asking about mushy feelings? Did they just ask if someone had mushy feelings? “Do you have trouble seeing through your hair like that?”

Roshil shook her head, sending her hair tumbling around with it. It was clearly of no concern to her.

“Has Kurgm been picking on you?”

“No.”

Trying to watch her words felt weird to Sirshi, so she decided to play to her strengths.

“Master Moudren thinks you have feelings for me.”

Being blunt. Sirshi was good at being blunt.

Roshil froze halfway through tearing apart a piece of meat.

“I don’t really have feelings for anyone,” Sirshi continued, “and I didn’t think you really cared, but I wanted to make that clear, because Master Moudren thinks it’s important.”

“Okay. That’s fine, I guess. Um… no, that’s fine.” Roshil beamed at her. “See? Smile. That means I’m fine.”

“Good. Glad we got that out of the way.”

They ate in silence for the rest of dinner. When they were finished, Lord Grund came to fetch Roshil.

“Apprentice Sirshi.”

Sirshi stood at attention. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t have issues with all authority figures, only specific ones.

“If the temple has work it needs done, it’s to come to me, not to Apprentice Roshil. Understood?”

Sirshi glanced at Roshil. What little Sirshi could see of Roshil’s eyes through her hair were looking at the ground.

“I understand, My Lord.”

“Good. Apprentice Roshil.”

He led her out of the great hall.

Sirshi watched them leave, wondering if she should’ve said something to Roshil about the letter. If nothing else, at least she would’ve had someone who’d be angry too.

Why now?

There was the question again. The same question that had been haunting her all day. As she fell asleep, the answer occurred to her.

#VolumeTwo #DutyToOlmgraAndFamily

Sirshi couldn’t help but feel sad when she walked into the Temple of the Rising Sun early the next morning. People were beginning to congregate, which meant she was late. Many of them said hello to her. She smiled and acted the perfect apprentice priest.

Her sadness fought with the anger she still held inside. She knew who was to blame for this. The person that had no doubt been keeping tabs on her the entire time she’d been at the castle. The person that had never wanted her to be a priest either.

As she got her robes on, she thought about Roshil. Even if she didn’t feel the same way about her, she was worried. She wished Roshil would come back to the temple. The thought of breaking a statue crossed her mind. Not only could she not do that on purpose, but Lord Grund had told her to go to him, not to Roshil if one broke again. That probably meant Roshil wouldn’t be the one fixing it.

At least her punishment will have to end eventually.

During the Sun Welcoming Ceremony, Sirshi let Master Moudren’s brief words into the storm of anger. She let the sun wash over her. She had a plan, and with it, hope. If Master Moudren couldn’t do anything, Sirshi could at least confront the person responsible for telling her parents to force her away from the temple.

It wasn’t hard to find Ekla, not really. After the Sun Welcoming Ceremony the next morning, she followed Kurgm out of the temple.

“Master Ekla is probably waiting,” he said, eyeing her.

“I’m counting on it,” she said.

Sure enough, there was her half-sister, looking self-important like always. She never looked smug to other people, but Sirshi could see it in her. She knew her half-sister well enough to know that’s how she was.

“What did you do?” Sirshi demanded.

Ekla stayed calm and collected, just like she always did. Didn’t anything bother her? She could’ve at least pretended she cared.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Don’t act stupid!”

“No, that’s what you do.”

Sirshi ground her teeth together as Kurgm stepped between them.

“I don’t like having to be the adult here,” he said. “I don’t think this is a good time or place to do whatever this is.”

“Apprentice Kurgm, stay out of this. Apprentice Sirshi, what are you talking about?”

“Father’s demanding that I change specializations!”

“He’s what?” Kurgm asked. He looked from Sirshi to Ekla. “Is he allowed to do that?”

“Apparently, he is! Sent me a letter yesterday to tell me all about how my ‘cry for attention’ has to end!” She pulled out the letter and shook it. “What did you do?”

Kurgm took the letter and read it. At least he was interested in what was going on.

“What?” he said. He turned to Ekla. “Master Ekla?”

She took the letter and read it over. Her expression never changed. It stayed cold and hard, just like she was. Deep down, that’s who she was, and Sirshi knew it.

“Sirshi, Master Ekla wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t expect you ever reached out to him, or your mother,” Ekla said. “I told him you were doing well. That’s all.”

Kurgm opened his mouth to speak, but Sirshi cut him off.

“Really? And why should I believe you?”

“Because I have never lied to you,” Ekla replied.

“But you still talked about me to father behind my back!”

“To tell him how you were doing.”

“He doesn’t care about me! If he did, he wouldn’t be doing this to me!”

“Apprentice Sirshi, that’s enough.” Master Moudren put herself between Sirshi and Ekla. “You’re embarrassing yourself and the temple.”

For the first time since she’d started yelling at her half-sister, Sirshi noticed that their argument had drawn a crowd. It wasn’t much, and most of the apprentices were dispersing now that there were two masters involved. Even with people staring at her, she couldn’t find it in her to be embarrassed. Anger had shut out every other emotion in her. It was all she felt, all she was, and it was all Ekla’s fault.

Ekla held out the letter to her, and Sirshi snatched it out of her grasp.

“No matter how upset you get,” Master Moudren said, “I expect better of you than to yell at a servant of the court, regardless of who they are.”

“She started all of this. If it hadn’t been for her, none of this would be happening!”

“I know that’s not true,” Master Moudren said. “At least, I know that’s not what she intended.”

“You don’t know her like I do. She never wanted me to be a priest!”

“What I want—”

“Master Ekla,” Master Moudren said, “I imagine you and your apprentice have work to do elsewhere.” She smiled at Kurgm. “Apprentice Kurgm, it’s always nice to see you.”

He stood at attention and smiled back at her.

Ekla’s eyes moved from Master Moudren to Sirshi, then she turned around and walked away down the corridor.

“Apprentice Sirshi, I’m disappointed in you.”

“But—”

Master Moudren glared at her, and Sirshi’s anger evaporated like water in the desert. Master Moudren had never glared at anyone.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master Moudren.”

The glare disappeared from Master Moudren’s face. Sirshi wanted her to smile, but she didn’t think that was likely to happen.

“I spoke with Our Lady Exalted Priest yesterday,” Master Moudren said. “I’m afraid this isn’t the first time this has happened. Parents not wanting their children to be apprentice priests because they themselves believe worshiping deities is a waste of time. She said she would look into those other cases — they were before her time here — and see if she could find anything.”

“So she can stop my parents?”

The sunken expression on Master Moudren’s face gave her an answer before Master Moudren herself did.

“We can’t be certain. She can only try her best. That’s all any of us can do.”

#VolumeTwo #DutyToOlmgraAndFamily

Sirshi went through the rest of the day with a cloud hanging over her. She stayed in the temple until Master Moudren ordered her to leave and get some sleep. No matter how hard Sirshi tried, she couldn’t fall asleep. She kept thinking about what would happen the next morning when her parents arrived to take her away. If they didn’t outright drag her from the castle, they probably would take her out of the temple. There was still nothing she could do.

When her orb told her to give up trying to get sleep, she got out of bed and washed up. She slung her pack over her shoulder and left her room.

“Good morning.” Kurgm was waiting outside their rooms.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked.

“Moral support.”

“I don’t need your help. Tell Ekla—”

“Master Ekla doesn’t know I’m here.”

“I doubt she cares. My parents won’t be up this early, so by the time they arrive, you’ll be gone.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“No.”

She thought for a moment that he would ask about Roshil, but he remained quiet as they walked to the temple. Sirshi got ready for the Sun Welcoming Ceremony. She did her best to fake it. How was she supposed to spread hope when she had none left?

Sirshi and Master Moudren remained in the temple chamber after Sirshi finished cleaning up after the ceremony. After a while, Kurgm returned to the temple.

“I don’t know where Master Ekla is,” he said. “She’s usually here when I’m finished.”

“You two should go eat breakfast,” Master Moudren said. “You may return here afterward. Your father said he’d arrive shortly after breakfast.”

“When did he say that?” Sirshi asked, her anger already rising at the mention of her father.

“Not to me, but word reached me yesterday.”

Master Moudren saw them out before Sirshi could ask more questions. She and Kurgm walked through the castle to the great hall. People were already gathering for breakfast.

“Have you told Roshil?” he asked. “You two are friends, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t said anything to her.” Sirshi clenched her fists. “I’m almost in my third year. How am I supposed to make up for almost two years? I’ll probably have to stay longer. At least my father will get to scold me about it taking so long. He’ll probably say ‘It was your fault for picking the wrong specialization’, then ‘Your sister finished in three years’.”

“Maybe Master Moudren will think of something,” Kurgm said as they walked along the tables to where Roshil always sat.

Sirshi began to wonder if she should even be eating breakfast. She wasn’t hungry, but she’d been ordered by her master to “go eat breakfast”, so that’s what she was doing.

Maybe I should just leave.

It’d be easy enough to run away from the court, wouldn’t it? Just sneak aboard a caravan, or sneak out into the forest. Although Master Daktra had told her explicitly not to do that. Master Moudren had never worried about it. She knew Sirshi wouldn’t under normal circumstances. Besides, if she left, she wouldn’t get to be a priest, and that was all she wanted.

If I stay, I don’t get to be a priest either.

Kurgm and Sirshi sat down at the table.

“You should tell Roshil,” he said. “She’d want to know.”

“What difference does it make?” Sirshi snapped.

“She’s your friend.”

“So? It’s not like I’m leaving!”

“You might be!”

“What?”

Sirshi and Kurgm looked up and found Oshal standing over them, looking awfully concerned.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why might Apprentice Sirshi be leaving?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirshi said.

Oshal sat down next to Kurgm. “Please don’t lie to me. I can tell in your voice that you’re upset. And I can still sense how you’re feeling, even though I’m trying not to spy on other peoples’ feelings too much. Also, it’s been hard to tune out the anger that’s been coming from you for the past two days.” He turned slightly to Kurgm. “Apprentice Kurgm, what happened?”

Sirshi glared at Kurgm, but if he noticed, he didn’t care.

“Sirshi’s parents are making her change specializations.”

“Why? She’s very good at being a priest.”

“They don’t care!” Sirshi snapped. “My parents have never cared about me. They only care about their precious Ekla.”

Kurgm opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when something behind Sirshi caught his attention.

Sirshi prepared to yell at her sister, but stopped when she found that it wasn’t Ekla at whom Kurgm was staring.

“Hello, everyone,” Roshil said. “Um… is it okay if I sit with you?”

“Of course it is,” Oshal said. “You’re always welcome to sit with me.”

Roshil looked from one person to another, then sat down next to Sirshi.

The officers walked in, then breakfast began. The group of them stayed quiet through most of the meal, although Kurgm kept giving Sirshi significant glances.

“Is Apprentice Aonva in the library?” Oshal asked, breaking the group’s silence.

“I don’t know,” Kurgm said. “We haven’t spoken much in the past few days.”

That was the most conversation they had until the end of breakfast when Oshal spoke up again.

“Roshil,” Oshal said, “since no one else is going to say it, Apprentice Sirshi’s parents are asking that she change specializations.”

“Oh.” Roshil looked at Sirshi. “What happened?”

“Ekla happened,” Sirshi said. “She told them about me, and my parents remembered I existed.”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Oshal said. “I’m sure Master Ekla didn’t mean to—”

“Of course she meant to!” Sirshi snapped, losing her temper. “She didn’t want me to be a priest either!”

“Don’t yell at him,” Roshil said, glaring at Sirshi. “He’s only trying to help.”

“No one can help me, thanks to Ekla.”

Kurgm looked around the great hall. “Where is she?”

“Probably plotting with our father,” Sirshi growled.

As breakfast ended, Sirshi still wondered where Ekla was. She was confident in her theory, but it would’ve been nice to know for sure.

Lord Grund came by to fetch Roshil as they were leaving.

“Apprentice Sirshi, Lady Runslo told me about your situation. For what it’s worth, I think you belong in the Temple of the Rising Sun.”

Sirshi didn’t know what to say. She wanted to yell about her parents again, but she was sure doing so to an officer was a bad idea.

“Say ‘thank you’,” Oshal whispered.

“Oh. Yeah. Thank you, My Lord.”

“Apprentice Kurgm, Apprentice Oshal.” He turned to Roshil and led her away.

“I wish I could go with you,” Oshal said, “but Master Durwey is expecting me.” She smiled at Sirshi. “Good luck. I know everything will turn out alright.”

“You can’t know that,” Sirshi said. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

She and Kurgm walked together back to the Temple of the Rising Sun. She thought of Roshil and Oshal. Maybe Oshal should’ve been a priest. He was a lot better at staying hopeful no matter what, although she doubted that he’d have been that hopeful if their situations were reversed. Although, she doubted Daylarl would’ve forced either of his children to change specializations.

Master Moudren was waiting for them when they arrived. A few minutes later, her father walked in.

He stood tall as always, not that he was tall, but he liked to look important. His clothes were nice, his hair was neat, and he wore a look of contempt. As his eyes ran over everything in the main chamber, his expression said he wanted it all thrown away. Sirshi was familiar with the look; it was the look he gave most of her possessions, and, on occasion, her.

“You must be Apprentice Sirshi’s father,” Master Moudren said.

Her father looked at Master Moudren as though she were a bug that had just flown in through a window.

Sirshi clenched her fists, wondering how much trouble she’d get in if she punched him, and how much it would really matter if she got in trouble.

“Sirshi.” He motioned for her to follow him.

“If I may—” Master Moudren said.

“No. You’ve poisoned my daughter’s mind with these fantasies of imaginary deities for long enough. I want something better for her.”

“Really?” Sirshi said, raising her voice. “For me, or for you?!”

He glared down at her, his face telling her that she was going to regret that outburst later.

There’s nothing you can do to me worse than this.

“Sirshi, you will come with me. One way or another, this cry for attention stops now.”

“I’m sorry that I’m such a disappointment,” she said.

“Apprentice Sirshi.” Master Moudren laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s been a privilege to be your master, but I’m afraid that time is over.”

For a brief moment, Sirshi felt something other than anger. For a moment, she felt like someone actually cared about her.

Her father grabbed her wrist and pulled her away.

“Let go of me!” Sirshi shouted, trying to wrench her arm out of his grasp.

“I’m sure that’s not—” Master Moudren started.

“I don’t need your opinion!” her father shouted, pulling Sirshi toward the door. “I will do with my daughter what I think is best!”

“Enough!”

Ekla’s voice echoed through the chamber. Sirshi and her father froze, then her father straightened up, without releasing her.

Sirshi glared at her half-sister. Her shock at seeing her sister inside the Temple of the Rising Sun was overcome by her rage.

“Father,” Ekla said, “the court does not accept your reason for changing Apprentice Sirshi’s specialization at this time.”

Sirshi exchanged glances with Master Moudren and Kurgm. They looked as confused as she was.

“What?” her father said. “Ekla, you can’t be—”

“Master Ekla, and I’m completely serious. Your insistence on removing Apprentice Sirshi from her position as apprentice priest shows religious intolerance, which the court will not tolerate. Now please let go of her.”

Their father smiled disarmingly as Sirshi continued to try to free herself.

“Master Ekla, I’m her father. I know what’s best.”

“Best for whom? What’s best for the court is that she remains in her position.” She stood nearly eye to eye with their father. Her back was straight, her face was impassive, and she kept her hands behind her back. While their father looked every bit the upstanding citizen, Ekla looked every bit the perfect servant of the court.

“I’m her father—”

“And you entered an agreement with the court when you submitted her apprenticeship application.” Ekla produced a large bundle of parchment from her pack and flipped through it. “In accordance with the terms of apprenticeship, an apprenticeship may not be terminated for reasons of intolerance.”

Sirshi was torn. Either Ekla was making that up, which made no sense, or she’d found something even Master Moudren and Lady Runslo hadn’t found, which still made no sense, because why would Ekla care whether she remained an apprentice priest?

Ekla held up a particular page of the parchment. “You’re free to review the terms of your agreement,” she flipped to the last page, where Sirshi and their father had both signed it, “and your signature, binding you to the agreement.”

Her father released Sirshi, who backed up to Master Moudren, while her father read over the parchment.

“I haven’t shown any intolerance!” he spat.

“‘Fantasies of imaginary deities’,” Master Moudren said, “sounds an awful lot like both ignorance and intolerance to me.”

Her father glared at Master Moudren, then got control of himself.

“Fine.” He pushed the parchment back into Ekla’s hands. “If Sirshi refuses to respect my authority as her father, she won’t be returning to my house.”

“Fine, father,” Sirshi said.

Her father turned to her, glowering down at her.

“You are not my daughter.”

Sirshi glared back at him.

“I haven’t been your daughter for years, Endrir.”

He turned and left the temple.

“Apprentice Kurgm,” Ekla said, “take the morning off.”

She too turned and started for the door.

“What just happened?” Sirshi asked.

“I did what few people have ever done,” Ekla said without stopping. “I read the Apprenticeship Agreement we’ve all signed. Section 26 is agreement modification or termination, subsection eight outlines what the court defines as ‘intolerance’.”

“But—” Sirshi started, but Ekla left without waiting for more questions. “Why?”

“I can answer that,” Kurgm said, he too heading for the door. “She said it herself: It’s what’s best for the court. If there’s one thing Master Ekla cares about more than anything, it’s the court.”

Sirshi stared at the door where Ekla had been. Ekla thought it was best for the court that Sirshi stayed where she was. That thought was still hard to get her mind around.

“Apprentice Sirshi,” Master Moudren said, a broad smile on her face. “I believe we have work to do, now that you’re staying.”

Sirshi nodded, then followed Master Moudren through the temple. On her way past, she stood and bowed to the statue of Olmgra.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her hope restored.

#VolumeTwo #DutyToOlmgraAndFamily

Ekla walked through the court, trying not to show how tired she was. She’d been up all night hunting for a way to keep Sirshi at her place in the court. A year ago she wouldn’t have bothered, but she’d seen the change in Sirshi a few nights ago with Roshil. The Sirshi with whom she’d grown up wouldn’t have cared what was happening to other people. She would’ve ignored everyone else’s problems, and not stood up for anyone. The whole blaming other people for her problems thing hadn’t changed, but she figured with time, Master Moudren would tend to that as well.

Besides, I’ve had enough grief from Amnadm.

She’d tried talking to Lord Velal about it, but her complaints were the same as they’d been for the past nine years: Amnadm had abandoned Kurgm, forcing Lord Velal to take him. Now he’d put something into Kurgm’s head, but Ekla hadn’t figured out what it was yet.

After getting something to eat and convincing herself that her next decision wasn’t coming from her lack of sleep, she left the castle.

She hadn’t entirely convinced herself that she was doing the right thing. Arguments still flew back and forth in her head. As much as she liked to give the impression that she knew what she was doing, she rarely felt that she did. Even so, there was one last thing she felt she had to do.

You cross this bridge, there’s no going back.

I know him. He won’t give up until he gets his way.

He’s your father.

My duty is to the court and the apprentices.

There were several residential districts in the court, all of varying extravagance. The one in which she found herself was one of the nicer ones. Not at the top, but nice enough that the people living there could gloat about it. After several minutes of walking, she came to the right house.

She checked the number against a letter her father had sent her a week ago. Then she walked up to the door and knocked.

You were right, Father, it is bigger than the last one.

The sound of feet came from inside. Then there were a few clicks and the door opened.

A black-skinned young man stood in the doorway.

“Master Ekla.” As always, Stramf greeted her with a smile.

“Stramf,” Ekla smiled back at him. Stramf’s family had been serving her father for as long as Ekla could remember, and Ekla wasn’t sure that her father knew his name. She was always sure to use his name so he’d know someone did. “I’m here to see Endrir and Gwindel. Have they returned?”

“Yes.” He motioned for her to come inside. “Mr. Endrir just returned from his trip to the castle.”

They walked through one room, heading toward the sitting room. Ekla noticed a box with a worn out stuffed bear’s head sticking out of it.

Stramf lowered his voice. “I don’t think it went well. Endrir’s in quite the foul mood.”

“I should think so,” she said in a quiet voice. “I stopped Endrir from forcing Apprentice Sirshi to change specializations.”

He shot her a quick smile before they entered the sitting room. The ceiling stretched well over their heads. Everything glittered. She was sure if her father had been able to, he would’ve bought a house made of jewels.

“Master Ekla.”

Stramf held the door for her and closed it behind her.

Her father was pacing while Gwindel, Sirshi’s mother, sat in a chair, watching him.

“You,” her father greeted her.

“You’ve made your father awfully upset,” Gwindel said.

Ekla always saw Gwindel as a horrible, alternate future of her own. Spoiled, wealthy, and not a thought in her head that a man hadn’t put there.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” her father said, advancing on her. “I paid for the roof over your head. I gave you food and clothes, and this is how you repay me?”

“I have a duty to the court,” Ekla said. She kept her back straight and face neutral. Her personal feelings could wait until the time was right.

“You have a duty to me! I’m your father!”

You sired me. Intended to use me to further your own status. The court raised me. Master Velal and Apprentice Kurgm showed me that a family is held together by love, not obedience.

“That woman put you up to this, didn’t she?” Gwindel said. “You can tell her that Sirshi is my daughter!”

“Is that why you’ve already packed away her belongings?” Ekla asked. “I saw the box on the way in. I’m surprised you bothered to bring them when you moved.”

A few things fell into place. She’d been wondering if her update to their father had set him on this path, but it hadn’t been. Sirshi’s belongings weren’t packed to be thrown out, they’d never been unpacked. It was the move that had reminded her father that he had a second daughter.

“No daughter of mine shows me the disrespect she did!” her father roared. “If she wants to chase some fairy tale, fine! I made it clear that she’s not coming back here.” He calmed down, but held his glare on her. “What about you?”

Ekla knew this was the moment. Not the one where she made a choice, that moment had been years ago, but the moment she told her father her choice.

“My duty is to the court first,” she said. “My loyalty is to the court.” Her father started yelling, but she raised her voice over his. “And as a servant of the court, I’m telling you that if you’re found harassing any servant or apprentice of the court, measures will be taken against you.”

She turned around and left the drawing room amid vows and threats.

Her father ordered “Stram” to see her out.

Stramf closed the drawing room door behind her, then walked with her to the front door.

On her way, Ekla grabbed the box of Sirshi’s things, smiling at the bear sticking out.

“You fixed his eye,” she said, noting that he had one more eye than he’d had the last time she’d seen him.

“Apprentice Sirshi loved that bear,” Stramf said. “It seemed wrong to let him fall into disrepair.”

Ekla smiled at him, the closest she’d ever come to having a childhood friend. “Thank you.” She stopped at the door. “If they ask about the box, tell them I grabbed it and ran. And if you want a job where people actually know your name, let me know. The castle can always use good people.”

“Thank you, Master Ekla.”

“Back up,” she said, taking the door handle. “Walk back a few paces, then run at the door. I’ll slam it so it sounds like I made a getaway.”

“They won’t be happy with me,” Stramf said.

“All the more reason to find somewhere you’ll be appreciated for trying your best.”

Stramf backed up, then Ekla slammed the door. She heard running footsteps and smiled.

She walked through the court, carrying the box out of that district and into another one. It made her smile when a few people offered to help her, but she politely turned them down. She walked a few more blocks until she came to one house in particular. She put down the box and knocked on the door.

The door opened, and a sour old woman looked over her and the boxes.

“Ekla.”

“Hello, Quolmd. I… May I please come in?”

Her mother stepped aside and allowed her in. Ekla picked up the box and walked inside.

“Did they kick you out?” her mother asked, eyeing the box.

“Not the court,” Ekla replied. “Not my things. They’re Sirshi’s. Her parents were going to throw them away.”

“Sirshi.” A smile came over her mother’s face. “You should’ve seen her in the Flower Blooming Ceremony. She was perfect.”

“So I heard.” Following her mother’s guidance, Ekla put the box down in a corner.

“You are always welcome to go, you know. You don’t have to do what those people tell you.”

“Those people being…?”

“Your father and that… woman.”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

Ekla told her mother everything that had happened in the past week. While she talked, her mother offered her a chair and some tea. When she was finished talking, she took a sip of the tea.

“That… that…”

“Mother, please watch your language.”

“I can’t believe him! His own daughter! Both of you! You tell your sister she’s always welcome here. If that man doesn’t want her, all the better! She can stay here if she wants. I’ll take care of her things. What about yours? Aren’t they going to throw those out?”

“I got everything I wanted when I moved into the castle.”

“Good.” Her mother sipped her tea. “How’s… Kur… Kurgm! How’s he doing?”

Well, his uncle that abandoned him after his parents died showed up and caused trouble, like he always does when he shows up, and now he’s not spending as much time with Apprentice Aonva.

“He’s made friends with Sirshi,” she said instead, thinking back to earlier. She hadn’t expected to find Kurgm with Sirshi and Master Moudren, but she was happy he’d been there.

“How wonderful! It was a shame for him to miss the ceremony. I can’t believe that creepy little girl showed up. What was she even doing there?”

Ekla closed her eyes, breathed, and counted to five.

“Apprentice Roshil has fixed up every statue in the Temple of the Rising Sun. She is also friends with Apprentice Sirshi, and after being so cruelly cast out, Master Moudren welcomed her back in and let them plant flowers in the garden.”

This didn’t remove the bitter look her mother had, but it got her to stop talking about it. Ekla was glad for it; she didn’t want to get started on everything going on with Roshil. It was bad enough having to maneuver Kurgm through it while worrying his uncle might start writing to him (something that had never happened, but there was no telling with Amnadm).

“How are you?” her mother asked. “Still trying to be queen?”

“I’m finishing my druid apprenticeship,” Ekla said.

“You’ll have to be a priest next,” her mother said, a faint smile crossing her lips. “What with a mastery of everything else.”

“I’ll be a priest of the court. That means I won’t worship any one deity, but understand the practices of all of them. That’s what Our Lady Exalted Priest and His Majesty do. It’s common practice.”

“Very well. I suppose having two priests in the family will do.”

“And if I stopped at True Knight?”

“I’d be proud of you anyway, Ekla. Not as proud as I could be. You know, there are other temples.”

Ekla stood up.

“I think we’re finished.”

Her mother stood up and walked her to the door.

“Please come by and visit more often,” her mother said. “I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I do love you, Ekla.”

Ekla gave her mother a hug.

“I know. I… I love you too.”

#VolumeTwo #DutyToOlmgraAndFamily

The birds chirped an early morning song. A warm breeze drifted lazily through the air. Oshal smiled, feeling the sun on his face. Even if he couldn’t see it anymore, at least he knew it was there.

On that particular morning, he was in the city with Roshil and their father. He hoped that as they grew older, they could still spend time together like this, even if he and Roshil were assigned to different cities in the kingdom.

On this outing, they had company. While Roshil and their father walked ahead of him, Master Durwey and Grand Master Gorkle walked behind them. They spoke in hushed tones that Oshal couldn’t hear well, but he wasn’t interested in what they were saying.

Nourd walked beside him, asking a volley of questions.

“Why are there so many human dwellings?” Nourd asked, pointing at the buildings.

“They aren’t all dwellings,” Oshal replied. “You can buy things in many of them, like food.”

“Humans hunt the forest creatures for their food,” Nourd said. “They slaughter them with their human weapons.”

Something about which Oshal had been warned beforehand was that while Nourd could speak and understand their language thanks to his druid abilities, relying entirely on them for human speech meant that his words came out sounding “strange”. Oshal didn’t see anything strange about it; it was just a little different than everyone else, like everyone in his family. To him, Nourd fit right in.

“We must get approval from Mother before doing any hunting,” Grand Master Gorkle said, “and are careful to only hunt as much as we need.”

While Oshal could sense both Grand Master Gorkle’s and Nourd’s dislike of his sister’s presence, he was grateful to have them both. He liked spending time with Nourd, who was far less complicated than anyone else at the castle, and Grand Master Gorkle could supply answers that satisfied Nourd better than Oshal could.

Roshil still wasn’t back to her normal self. Master Durwey had been the one to explain what was going on with Roshil and why she hadn’t been allowed to move around unsupervised for the past few weeks. Oshal had had the idea to go out with their father to cheer her up after her privileges had been restored a few days ago. Oshal had mentioned it to Nourd, Nourd had wanted to spend time with Oshal, and Grand Master Gorkle thought it would be good to help ease Nourd into the court while supervised. It would also help him to spend time with both Oshal and Roshil, to understand that Roshil wasn’t out to get anyone (which Oshal had tried to explain to Nourd multiple times, without success).

“We also get food from plants sometimes,” his father called back to them. “And sweets. We also have sweets.”

“What are ‘sweets’?” Nourd asked. “I am unfamiliar with that word.”

“They’re a little like honey,” Grand Master Gorkle said.

This filled Nourd with curiosity and a little excitement.

“I would like to consume one of these ‘sweets’. Where can I obtain one?”

There was little distance between Nourd’s feelings and his actions. While this made Master Durwey a little nervous (hence her presence with them), it made Oshal happy. Whenever something bothered Roshil, it took him days to navigate her feelings, especially when she realized it and shut him out of her emotions (something their mother had taught them both). Even with the new friends he’d made at the court in the past few years, it took time to figure out what was bothering them. If something bothered Nourd, he said it within moments of being bothered.

“You’ll have to be patient,” Grand Master Gorkle said. “Perhaps when we stop for lunch.”

“Why would we stop to get lunch? Won’t our lunch run away if we stop?”

“I hope not,” Oshal’s father said. “I don’t think my lunch has ever stood up and run away from me before. Not of its own accord, anyway.”

“Why must we be patient if we are not hunting for our food?”

“We don’t eat whenever we want,” Grand Master Gorkle said. “We don’t have to keep hunting for food. It’s available to us whenever we want it. Remember? We’ve talked about this before.”

“This place is confusing. I do not like that.”

While Nourd’s emotions flowed freely, Roshil’s stayed fairly consistent. If she’d been in a children’s picture book, there’d have been a black cloud hanging over her head. Oshal kept hoping that being with their father would make her happy again, but her misery was stubborn. Oshal and their father had made attempts to get her interested in anything, but they had yet to be successful.

As they walked past the forge, their father pointed it out to Roshil.

“I’ve seen it,” she said.

Oshal remembered the boundless enthusiasm Roshil had had when she’d first seen the forge. It had been like an explosion of rainbows in her head. Nothing had interested her more in the court than the forge. Oshal had seen her knit, build, and whittle, anything she could do to make something, but living on the move, they’d never had access to a forge. It’d been all Roshil talked about for months.

Now she felt empty, like she didn’t have any happiness left in her.

I must be able to do something.

Something occurred to him. An idea. A small way he could help his sister.

He concentrated on his happy memories. His joy at spending time with friends. The satisfaction of knowing he’d made people happy. While staying carefully closed off from everyone else, he focused on Roshil, and on seeing her happy.

His joy passed along her thread, channeling into her. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get through to her.

“Master Grund said I can start learning about enchantments,” she said. “He… he doesn’t… I’m not old enough to start enchanting anything yet, but he said I’ll have to learn eventually.”

Oshal smiled, happy that his sister was happy again.

“I do not like human magic,” Nourd said. “It is not the way of the forest.”

“It’s okay,” Oshal said. “Roshil’s responsible about it, like everyone else at the court.”

Oshal was pleased with himself. He wove happiness into Roshil, and everything had turned out okay. There was nothing to worry about.

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp

Oshal tapped his way to the great hall for dinner. He’d gotten used to the castle in the past two months. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling for the signs that pointed his way. Using the signs, he could find his way anywhere without help.

When he arrived, people were still taking their seats. He followed the threads of all his friends, finding out who was already there.

He picked up his sister, sitting alone. She’d been getting better in the past week. He had only needed to nudge a little happiness into her.

“Oshal!” It was the voice of Demndun, an apprentice mage, like Aonva. She was in her third year, if he remembered correctly. She walked over to him and took his hand. “Come on.”

Oshal allowed her to lead him over to where a few other apprentices were sitting together. He sensed Cremwa, another apprentice mage a year ahead of Demndun, Muwen, an apprentice artisan the same year as Demndun, and Zifor, another weaver.

“Hello everyone,” he said quietly.

Everyone stood at attention as the officers walked in and took their seats. They were followed by His Majesty. He took his seat, signaling everyone that it was time to eat.

One regret Oshal had about not being able to see was not seeing the food appear on the tables. Roshil and Aonva had explained (each with great enthusiasm) that the tables were linked to tables in the kitchens. The spells were activated by servants down below to send the food up. It sounded exciting, especially the way they had explained it.

“How is everyone?” Oshal asked. “Zifor, how was your test?”

“Not bad,” he replied. “History’s not my thing, though.”

“What is?” Muwen said after he swallowed some of his food. “You barely scrape by.”

Zifor and Muwen had been friends for a long time. Oshal liked being near them, because they always seemed happy together. Unless the topic of Cremwa came up. As far as Oshal could tell, Muwen and Zifor were fighting over her.

“I heard,” Cremwa said, “Tabonda dumped Rakush after she caught him with Kemdra.”

“Don’t they break up every other week?” Demndun asked.

Oshal went through the names of the other apprentices. He recognized the name. Kurgm had mentioned something about Tabonda the other day.

“She was talking to Kurgm and Master Ekla,” Oshal said.

“Is Kurgm here?” Demndun asked.

Oshal felt a burst of excitement from her. He’d noticed it whenever Kurgm came up.

“Calm down,” Zifor said. “He’s not here. Again.”

“Aren’t all apprentices supposed to eat in the great hall?” Cremwa asked. Her irritation sparkled a little, mixed with a hint of smugness. While Zifor and Muwen were after her, Cremwa was after Demndun.

Oshal prided himself on being able to keep track of the tangled and confusing web of relationships formed by his new friends.

“He works hard,” Oshal said. “And he grew up here, so he has special permission to eat in the kitchens.”

“Why would you want to?” Muwen asked. “I always get out of the forge before I get stuck working through dinner.”

“Lucky you,” Cremwa said. “Master Semdm works me too hard. A girl as pretty as I am can’t always be staring at books. It’s a waste, isn’t it, Demndun?”

“Um… I guess.”

“It’s not like I’m that Master’s pet Aonva. That girl is so weird. She actually likes going to those lectures they make mages attend. And I saw her in the library yesterday. It looked like she’d made a nest out of books. And she talks to herself!”

Oshal smiled at the thought of it. Aonva was weird, but it was a nice sort of weird, like Roshil. He wondered where she was, but stopped before he started following her thread. He was trying to get out of the habit of checking up on people.

If they wanted you to know where they were, they’d tell you.

That’s what his mother had told him, and Master Durwey had said something similar. It was hard to stop himself from checking on people. Few people he knew were ever open with him. Actually, Nourd was open with him, and that was it.

Oshal followed Aonva’s thread and found her in the kitchens with Kurgm.

He checked his sister again, but sure enough, she was in the great hall with him. He only sensed one other person near her, and that was Sirshi.

Oshal sensed Sirshi sitting with Roshil. He couldn’t think of a time she’d ever arrived on time.

At least Sirshi’s sitting with her.

Roshil liked Sirshi a lot, or at least she had until recently. Roshil was still struggling. He could sense her trying to hide it. When they were younger, the same feeling would be accompanied by a fake smile, as though she thought if she smiled everything would be fine.

“Don’t mages need to read?” Zifor asked.

“Not all the time,” Cremwa said. “It’s not like weavers who get to stare into space all day.”

“We do not!” Zifor said.

“She’s got you figured out,” Muwen said, laughing.

“What about you, Oshal?” Demndun asked. “Does Our Lady Grand Weaver have you working all hours of the night?”

“Not really. I haven’t been here long, though. My sister says it gets a lot harder.”

“Her,” Muwen muttered.

Oshal sensed that none of them liked his sister, but they were all getting better. They weren’t openly mean to her anymore, at least not while Oshal was there.

“Who’s that sitting with her?” Cremwa asked.

“That’s Apprentice Sirshi,” Oshal replied. “She’s an apprentice priest in the Temple of the Rising Sun.”

“That’s a good one,” Zifor said. “My parents go there.”

“‘Oh great one’,” Muwen said. “‘Deliver unto us happy fun times’.”

“Stop it,” Zifor said, punching Muwen in the arm (while Oshal couldn’t see this, he recognized the sounds and emotions it caused). “Olmgra’s not bad.”

“It’s pointless if you ask me,” Cremwa said. “Why worship them at all? It’s not like the deities have ever done anything for us.”

“Don’t they help the court sometimes?” Demndun asked. “Like in times of peril?”

“And Olmgra’s followers help spread hope in the community,” Oshal said.

Oshal didn’t like to play favorites with people, but of his new friends, he liked Demndun a lot. She was the one who had first introduced him to the others, and she helped him get around sometimes.

As they talked, Oshal wondered about his sister. She didn’t spend time with Aonva anymore. She always seemed upset about something. She didn’t go to temple. In fact, neither of them did. Were they fighting about something? He supposed it happened to everyone at some point. At least, that’s what their father had said.

Oshal resolved to find out what was wrong. He didn’t have a plan yet, but he would come up with something. He didn’t think his other friends would help, but maybe Sirshi or Kurgm would.

He hadn’t talked with them much in the week since Sirshi was nearly forced to stop being a priest. Aonva hadn’t been at meals much since then, if at all. He’d been trying to give Roshil space. It only made her worse when something was wrong and Oshal pushed her too hard to open up about it.

After dinner, he sought out Roshil through the crowd of people. She was walking alone, Sirshi having gone off somewhere else (Oshal figured it was probably the Temple of the Rising Sun).

“Roshil?”

He sensed her misery again. He’d been weaving happiness into her all week, trying to keep up her spirits, but she was worse now than she’d been.

Roshil didn’t say anything to him. She made a halfhearted attempt at closing off her emotions from him, but it didn’t last long. A void of darkness surrounded her, sucking away happiness from the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t help.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice almost lost in the shuffling of people.

Oshal had to do something. Roshil had never been this bad. He wove happiness into her, but it didn’t do anything. She needed more.

He concentrated on his friends. He thought of Nourd, his father, his mother. His sister. He let the happiness build up in him until he almost started laughing, then pushed it through Roshil’s thread.

Roshil perked up. The emptiness around her withered away to nothing. She was bright and happy.

“I’m…” she started to say.

Waves of emotion surged out of her. A black pit engulfed the happiness she’d felt and crashed down on her. Whispered voices sounded from all around them.

“Roshil?”

Oshal swung his head around, wishing he could see. He felt for Roshil, but she wasn’t there anymore. The sound of whimpering from the floor told him she’d collapsed.

“Roshil!”

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp

Medics rushed Roshil to the hospital. Oshal fell behind them without anyone to guide him. He kept checking Roshil’s thread, but he couldn’t sense anything from her.

What have I done?

His mother had told him it was dangerous to weave emotion into other people. She’d warned him not to do it. Master Durwey had warned him against it. Why hadn’t he listened?

I had to do something.

People saw him and instinctively thought he was fragile, helpless. Even before he’d lost his eyes, people had sheltered him. It wasn’t he that needed it. Oshal could stand up for himself, and there wasn’t much that bothered him. Roshil was the fragile one. She was the one that broke down easily. But this time, he’d broken her.

I’m so sorry, Roshil.

When he arrived at the hospital, someone else was already waiting for him. There was no emotion attached to it, but he sensed a towering presence, as though he were staring up at a volcano. He’d felt the same thing whenever that person came to Roshil’s mind.

“Apprentice Oshal,” Lord Grund greeted him.

“My Lord.” Oshal stood at attention. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Lord Grund growled. “What happened?”

Oshal tried to find the words to explain what had happened. How miserable Roshil had been, how he’d only been trying to help, how he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Before he could find the words, he sensed a sudden rush of panic enter the hospital.

The swirling mass of fear stopped for a moment, brightened as much as a candle does a maelstrom, then ran over to them.

“My Lord High Artisan,” Aonva panted. “Oshal. Our Lady Arch Mage told me something happened to Roshil. Is everything alright?” She opened her pack. “I was in the library with Our Lady Arch Mage when I heard, so I grabbed some books I’ve been reading on trauma.”

“Apprentice Aonva,” Lord Grund grumbled.

“I’m not sure how much help they’ll be,” she said, pulling out several books, “but I’ve found them rather illuminating. There’s whole chapters in this one about people that have survived dragon attacks, and this one’s got a chapter about curses.”

“Apprentice Aonva.”

“I’m sure the medics have read them, or something like them. It’ll be weavers working on her, right? Or knights talking her through it? I don’t think they’d have druids in there with her, since she isn’t hurt, and druids don’t get along with Roshil anyway.”

“Apprentice Aonva!”

Aonva squeaked and dropped her books. Her panic and concern gave way to more panic.

“My apologies, My Lord. I—”

“Stop talking.”

Aonva squeaked again, but made no other noise.

“Pick up your books.”

The sound of shuffling on the floor told Oshal that Aonva had rushed to obey Lord Grund.

“The medics don’t think this has anything to do with her trauma. They said it was euphoria overload. Have either of you seen strange behavior in her lately?”

Oshal raised his hand.

“You know what I mean, Apprentice Oshal.”

Oshal kept his hand raised.

“What?”

“What’s ‘euphoria overload’?”

Even as he asked, he realized the answer to his question. What else would it have been? He’d done this.

He heard the sound of whooshing of air next to him.

“Apprentice Aonva, care to explain?”

“Euphoria is the term given to weaving a large amount of happiness or joy into a person. Euphoria overload, sometimes called euphoria overdose, is when too much of it is woven into a person, causing him or her to have negative side effects, such as chills or episodes similar to that of trauma. While it varies from person to person—”

“I think we got it,” Lord Grund said. “I haven’t noticed anything aside from her usual behavior as of late. I haven’t been keeping as close of an eye on her as I was a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think she’d have time to leave the castle. Which means she snuck out without me knowing, which isn’t likely, or someone in the castle put it into her.”

Oshal couldn’t see Lord Grund staring at him, but he could feel it. Something inside him knew that Lord Grund already knew the answer.

“I haven’t been…” Aonva’s voice trailed off. “Oshal?”

Oshal shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t tune out the emotions from either of them. Confusion from Aonva had overpowered panic, but the worst one came from Lord Grund. Oshal couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or shame, but it felt ugly. Like some shambling monster had raised a long finger at him and hissed “You did this”.

“I… I thought I was helping. She was so upset—”

“Of course she was upset,” Lord Grund snapped. “It’s Apprentice Roshil. She’s always upset about something. You’ve known her longer than I have, so you should know that. You should also know the best way to help her is to distract her from it until she’s ready to talk about it.”

Oshal felt small against the mountain of Lord Grund. Their mother would’ve known that. Oshal should’ve known that. But she’d been so happy for a moment, happier than she’d ever been. No, happier than he’d ever noticed her being.

“Lady Durwey will be here soon to collect you,” Lord Grund said. “She’ll take it from there. Next time you think your sister’s having trouble, either talk to her about it, or let me handle it. You are not the only one that cares. Right, Apprentice Aonva?”

Aonva squeaked again and said something that sounded like “ysmlrd”.

Lord Grund guided him to a chair, and Oshal sat down. He tried not to think that this was all his fault. Instead, he focused on the fact that Roshil would be okay.

I should’ve known better. Maybe I’ll do better next time.

Lord Grund had been right. Roshil was always upset about something, unless she’d been given a distraction. And sometimes she did talk to someone about it. Oshal always wished she’d talk to him more, but so long as she talked to someone, it was okay.

Roshil would be okay. He just had to keep telling himself that.

#VolumeTwo #HowToHelp