Skwyr Court

Aonva sat in history class, writing down every word the teacher said. Most of it was familiar to her; she’d read through her textbook three times already, in case a quiz was thrown at them without warning. While Sirshi insisted she didn’t need to be that prepared, Aonva didn’t think there was such a thing as “over prepared”.

“After the war, and Torpn became part of Skwyr, more cities came under the court’s rule. Word spread of the possibilities, the safety, and the opportunities the court could provide. Until then, most of the cities had been under the rule of tyrants. This caused the cities to seek out the court’s aide.” Master Rondin stopped talking, and Aonva reviewed everything she knew in anticipation of another question. “Naxta, there were three cities that joined the kingdom next. Name one of them.”

A boy toward the back of the class stood up. His face was always on the brink of a smirk. “I don’t know.”

Master Rondin glowered at him. “Guess.”

Aonva didn’t know how Master Rondin managed to pack so much frustration and exasperation into a single syllable.

The words you speak are just as important as the tone with which you speak them.

Without hesitation, Naxta said, “Zensin.”

Master Rondin’s gaze didn’t ease any. “No. While the acquisition of Zensin was invaluable in establishing a relationship with the other kingdoms, it wasn’t one of the first three to seek the court’s rule. Apprentice Aonva, would you please tell us what they were?”

Aonva stood up and addressed Master Rondin to avoid anyone else’s gaze. “Moud, Bimun, and Sarona.”

“Very good.”

The chime of bells sounded throughout the school. Students immediately began rushing to gather their things.

“For next week, I want an essay on the reasons the cities gave for joining the kingdom. You need to include at least five reasons.”

Aonva gathered her notes and put them back in their place in her bag. If everything stayed organized, she wouldn’t waste time finding it, and she needed more time to study.

She had only just left the classroom when someone called to her.

Naxta walked up to her, still with that same half-smirk on his face.

“You know this stuff, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She wished she had something to hide behind. She wanted to shrink away from him. Few people who weren’t teachers ever paid direct attention to her, and she didn’t care for it. She didn’t want Sirshi’s extreme of rejecting most human contact, though, so she had to get used to it.

“Then you can help me out with it.”

“Oh. Um… I guess.”

“Great. Tomorrow after class. We can work on the essay together.”

“Um… Okay. We can meet in the library, if that’s okay with you. It’s fine if it’s not, though. We don’t have to do anything, I guess.”

“Great. See you there.”

Naxta walked away with his friends, smiling and laughing with them. Aonva hoped they weren’t laughing at her. No, they wouldn’t be, would they? Maybe it was her hair. Roshil liked it, or maybe she was only being polite. Maybe it was ridiculous. It must’ve been. Her parents were right; no one would like her unless she fit in better. Being a complete neurotic mess was enough to drive any normal person away.

Roshil would’ve told her that normal was overrated. Even after everything they’d been through over the past year, Roshil was always nice to her. And Sirshi didn’t care one way or another how Aonva did her hair. Or that she overreacted to everything and couldn’t stay calm to save her life.

Aonva started toward the door to the castle in a daze. Her mind and head were so rarely in the same place. Just another reason why she didn’t have friends apart from Roshil. Sirshi was sort of her friend, but she was more Roshil’s friend than Aonva’s. Maybe she could make friends with Naxta. She couldn’t think of a time he’d made fun of her, unlike some of her other classmates.

As she reached the doors to the castle from the school, she met up with Roshil coming from natural sciences.

“I never realized how many plants could kill you,” Roshil said. “Don’t worry, though; most of them don’t grow around here. How was history?”

“It was okay,” Aonva said, trying not to launch into a lecture on everything Master Rondin had said minutes ago. “Um… I won’t be at the library tomorrow after class. I mean, I will be, but… but I’ll be helping one of my classmates with his work.”

“That’s fine, he can hang out with us.”

“No, I mean… I’m helping him… alone. The two of us.”

“Oh.” Realization came over Roshil. “Like… Like a date?”

“What? No! I mean, I don’t think so. Not that I would say no to one, but I don’t know him that well, although he seems really nice, and he doesn’t make fun of me like some of my classmates, and—”

“Who’s making fun of you? Let me know, and Sirshi and me will take care of them.” She emphasized this point by punching one hand with the other.

“No! You—” She paused as they stepped into the castle and a tingling spread through her body. “You don’t need to hurt anyone.”

“I’m not going to hurt them,” Roshil said. “Father says never do anything directly. If it can’t be traced back to you, you can’t get in trouble.”

Aonva had long since learned that trying to dissuade Roshil from anything her father had told her was pointless. According to Lord Grund, the best way to handle that was to distract Roshil.

“I asked Our Lady Arch Mage about a spell to read books,” Aonva said, hoping that was a good enough distraction. “She said there has been some work on it with Essence Magic.”

Roshil scowled for a moment, an expression that to a passerby might look like anger, but Aonva knew to be her “thinking” face.

“Never heard of it.”

“She said it was still theoretical. The idea is sort of like weaving. You can use weaving to learn something attached to a person’s ‘essence’, like their name or gender identity. Something that’s at the core of who they are. The theory is that a book’s contents are at the core of what they are, so if a thread could be attached to a book, it could be used to read the book. The problem is, we can only attach threads to living things, and even then can only get basics from them, not emotion or anything.”

Roshil shrugged. “So what? Mother used to say that something was only impossible until it wasn’t.”

Aonva paused to file that away. Roshil rarely spoke of her mother, so any information Aonva was lucky enough to get was valuable.

“I have to go to the forge,” Roshil said. “Are we still eating dinner together?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to eat dinner with your new friend.”

“Oh no, he’s not an apprentice. We couldn’t eat together.”

“Okay.” That seemed to cheer up Roshil a little. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you for dinner.”

#VolumeThree #TrueFriends

Aonva sat in one of the study rooms in the library. She reviewed what she’d brought with her again: her notes from the last four months of class, their textbook, and spare notebooks in case Naxta forgot something. This didn’t make her feel any less nervous, but she didn’t feel like she was going to be sick anymore, so it was helping a little.

Naxta strode into the study room. Unlike Aonva, nothing bothered him. He’d never been worried about anything in his life.

Aonva jumped to her feet when he arrived. She brushed some hair out of her face, criticizing herself for not putting it back in braids. Even if Naxta was from Alforn — or at least his family was — he’d still think her hair was ugly.

“Hi, Naxta,” she said in a soft voice.

“Hey.” He slid into the chair across from her and leaned back.

“Um… Right.” Aonva sat down and opened her notebook to her notes. “So… um… with what do you need help?”

“It’s that essay Rondin gave us,” he said. “You know? Five reasons why people wanna be in the court?”

Aonva didn’t need him to spell it out for her, she’d written hers last night. The court provided religious and political freedom, social acceptance, and economic stability. Master Rondin had told them all of those during class. There was a longer bulleted list in their textbook too.

“I mean,” he continued, “why would anyone wanna be here? It’s so boring, you know? Like, nothing ever happens here. Except last year when that dragon burned down a whole farm, but that wasn’t even inside the city. It’s so boring, you know?”

What Naxta called “boring”, Aonva considered “safe”. That remained at the top of her list of reasons never to step outside the court walls. How could anyone consider “boring” a bad thing?

“Well… um… there’s a good section about it in our book,” she said, pulling her textbook to her.

“Oh, yeah, that thing. I lost mine weeks ago.”

Aonva fumbled her textbook for a moment while she was leafing through to one of several marked pages.

“Oh. Well… um… I’ve got mine, so you can use that today.”

“Alright.”

She found the page with the list on it, then turned the book to face him. “There’s this page, which has a lot of reasons why people wanted to join the court. Master Rondin already explained some of them. I took notes on those, so I can find those if you give me a moment.”

“Sure.”

Aonva left the book and started going through her notes. Once again, she’d put markers on the pages she’d been expecting to use. “I don’t know how much you remember from class, but I take notes on everything, so in case you missed something, I’ve got it.”

“Okay.”

She turned her notes toward him, then looked him over. He hadn’t brought a pack with him, or anything for that matter.

“Do… do you need something with which to write?”

“No, I’m not really good at writing.”

Aonva took the pieces of parchment she’d brought with her, along with a pen and ink. She paused, considering what he’d just said. Before she could question it, he spoke again.

“You got everything,” he said. “You got something to eat? I’m starving.”

Aonva bit back the horror at the thought of eating anything in the library.

“No… I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Crumbs would end up everywhere, what if someone spilled a drink on the books and they were ruined, or what if they attracted bugs, or…

He took the pen and parchment from her, then looked at the book again. “That’s a lot of words.”

Aonva didn’t know how to respond to that. Sirshi would’ve had plenty to say about him, but none of it would’ve been nice. Aonva glanced at the study room door. Was Roshil in the library? Maybe Aonva should’ve invited her too. Roshil would’ve had the same essay to write, and she wasn’t as diligent about her work as Aonva was. Although, Roshil would’ve laughed at Naxta by now, and Aonva didn’t want that. If she had a chance to make a new friend, she should try.

Aonva pointed at the list on the page. “That’s the important part. The book expands on each of those items in the later paragraphs. So most of the work is rewording what’s written later.”

“This still doesn’t make sense,” Naxta said. “Maybe I could see yours. It’ll make sense then.”

She glanced at her pack. Her own essay was with her, but she wasn’t comfortable letting him see it. Where was the harm in it, though? It wasn’t as though he were going to copy it entirely, but it was the best summary she had of the information they needed. Surely it’d save Naxta a lot of time if he had a more complete summary than what was in the book.

She reached for her pack and pulled out her essay. She pointed to the first paragraph. “The court provides religious freedom, allowing anyone to worship anything, so long as it doesn’t disrupt the lives of other people, and they don’t force it on anyone else. That’s one example.” She pointed to the original paragraph in the book. “The book says much the same thing, but takes a lot longer to say it. Maybe… maybe you can put it into your own words, then expand it when you write your final essay.”

“‘Final essay’?” The way Naxta said it, a “final essay” was a fate worse than death. “I’m not gonna write this again. I’m writing it once and handing it to Rondin.”

Master Rondin. Aonva didn’t dare correct him out loud, nor did she want to explain the benefits of writing more than one draft to achieve a better final product. She’d already tried explaining that to Roshil, who was far more receptive than Naxta and still hadn’t seen the point of it.

“Oh. That’s… that’s fine, I suppose.”

Naxta started writing. His handwriting was scratchy and hardly legible. Aonva was still sitting across from him, making it nearly impossible to tell what he was writing. His gaze moved between the book and her essay as he wrote, and for once, he looked like he was taking it seriously.

They went through each entry in the list and did the same thing. Naxta was slow to write, but he got there in the end. By the time they were finished, dinnertime was fast approaching.

“I have to go to dinner,” Aonva said, collecting her things. “I… um… I hope you do well.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, picking up what he’d written. “This’ll help a lot. At least now I know who to ask when I need help.”

Aonva kept her gaze on her belongings, then on the floor when she’d packed them away.

“Thanks,” she said in a small, squeaky voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

She rushed out of the room. Her heart pounded, and she felt lightheaded and a little sick. She’d be okay though. She’d helped out a classmate and made a new friend. She was still a complete mess, but maybe she’d get better at it in time.

I can make friends. The more she thought about it, the happier she felt. I can make friends!

#VolumeThree #TrueFriends

“A mage’s staff is the most important possession they own,” Lord Grund said, wheeling around in front of a blackboard with a diagram of a staff on it. “Magic’s long and complicated, too long to be of use in day to day life. If you want to do exactly the right thing at the right time, you need a staff. It holds prepared spells in it, tuned to specific words.”

Aonva and Roshil sat in the forge, along with the other second year apprentice artisans and mages, listening to Lord Grund’s lecture. Lady Emgard stood beside him, letting him lead the lecture.

“As artisans, you’ll be responsible for aiding a mage in constructing his or her staff before completing your apprenticeship. As apprentice mages, you’re responsible for designing your staff, which an artisan will then aide you in constructing. Lady Emgard, explain why.”

Lady Emgard scowled at him for a brief moment before answering.

“A mage’s staff is the symbol of her mastery and her greatest tool. However, artisans are the experts in construction and crafting, making it sensible for them to handle the actual construction of the staff.”

“You’re all into your second year here, so you’ll have to start thinking about it. Staff construction takes place during your fifth-year assignments, which you will do in pairs, one artisan, one mage. That gives you three years to start thinking about the person with whom you want to work. If you can’t stand to be around that person for a whole year, you probably shouldn’t work with them. It’s a complicated process, and this will be the staff that serves you for the rest of your life. Artisans, you’ll need to research construction of a staff, and know what’s possible. That way, when a mage comes to you with impossible ideas they thought sounded good at the time, you can tell them they’re idiots.”

While this earned him a few giggles from the artisans, Roshil in particular, it got him another scowl from Lady Emgard.

“As mages,” she said, keeping her voice calm and not insulting, “you’ll need to start thinking of your focus. Research, protection, tracking, to name a few. I wanted to research dragons, so I put my focus there. Your masters can give you a better understanding of what they chose, and point you in the direction of another master with similar interests that can give you some ideas. You will continue to work with your master on this.” She turned to Lord Grund. “Lord Grund, unless you want to insult my apprentices more, I believe that concludes our lecture?”

“I got my quota in for the day.”

“Then you are all dismissed. Your masters will be waiting for you outside to continue your normal routines.”

The apprentices all stood up and began to shuffle out of the forge.

“I’ll see you after class?” Roshil asked.

“Yes,” Aonva said. “In the library again? It’s fine if—”

“I know it’s always fine with you if we meet somewhere else,” Roshil said, a grin on her face. “I like sitting in the library with you. I mean… Oh! Sirshi wanted to come too.”

“I thought she didn’t like the library.”

Roshil shrugged. “I don’t know, but I asked if she wanted to hang out with us, and she said sure. I’m meeting her at the temple, then we’ll head over there.”

Aonva wasn’t sure about Sirshi being in the library. Once Roshil got focused on something, she didn’t move until she was finished, but Sirshi was vocal about her disapproval of anything. But if it was what Roshil wanted, Aonva was okay with it.

“That’s fine.” Aonva smiled at Roshil. “See you later.”

“See you.”

---

During class, Aonva struggled to keep her focus on Master Rondin. She still wrote down every word of the lecture (she’d learned a way of writing that looked like scribbles to everyone else, but allowed her to keep up with her teachers’ lectures), but her mind was on Naxta.

I was wondering if you’d maybe like to study together.

Did that sound right? What if he was already doing something else? What if he thought she was too timid? Maybe she needed to be more direct.

Let’s go study together.

No, that wasn’t right, that sounded rude. Why couldn’t she talk right? She’d never had this problem with Kurgm, but they’d always made plans together. He’d ask her if she wanted to do something, she’d always say yes, even if she didn’t really want to, and they’d spend time together. Unless that was the reason Kurgm had stopped spending time with her. Maybe he hadn’t liked that she was so timid all the time. If she were too forceful, she’d only be rude. According to her father, a woman shouldn’t have too many opinions.

Master Rondin finished class by assigning them another essay, then dismissed them. Aonva quickly packed up her books. She spotted Naxta leaving the classroom, and moved quickly to catch up to him.

“Naxta!”

She immediately regretted saying something. She didn’t know what she was doing. All she was going to do was make a fool of herself.

Naxta was in the corridor outside the classroom when he stopped. He turned to her, his usual confidence all over his face.

I wish I could be like that.

“Aonva.” A hint of a smile crossed his face.

“I was wondering… maybe you’d like to… um… maybe we could work on our essays together?”

He walked over to her, put his arm around her, and began leading her away from the classroom.

Panic raged inside her. It took all her focus not to start crying. She fought through it, determined to show that she could be normal.

“That’d be great,” he said. “Hey, you’re taking arcane language with Dordir, right?”

“Yes.” Aonva’s voice shook when she responded. She tried to subtly take breaths to calm herself. “T-tomorrow.”

“Great. We got that test coming up, and, since we’re good friends now, I’m sure you’d tell us what’s gonna be on that test after you take it, so we’re ready for it.”

“What?”

Women shouldn’t argue all the time.

Men don’t want you to have your own thoughts or opinions, they just want you to agree with everything they say.

“But… but that’s cheating,” Aonva said.

His grip on her tightened. “But we’re friends, right? And friends look out for one another. Like when you let me copy your essay.”

“But… I didn’t… you weren’t supposed to—”

“What’s Rondin going to say when she reads those essays? She’s gonna wonder which of us copied the other. I’m gonna tell her I worked on it with my friends. And if you’re not one of my friends, then that means you copied off me.”

She felt sick, trapped. The walls were closing in on her. She couldn’t breathe.

“So, we’re friends, right?”

Aonva couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Y-yes.”

“Great. So I’ll see you tomorrow after that test so we can study together.” He withdrew his arm. “See you later, friend.”

After wanting friends so badly, the word “friend” felt like a slap in the face. Naxta walked off with his friends, smiling to one another. They hadn’t a care in the world. That left Aonva alone, with the weight of what she’d done threatening to crush her.

#VolumeThree #TrueFriends

Aonva walked through the library in a daze. She’d let someone else copy her work. She hadn’t meant to, but that wouldn’t matter once Master Rondin read their essays and realized they were almost identical. When Master Rondin asked them about it, Naxta’s friends would back up his story, and Aonva would be all alone. There was nothing she could do about it. Unless she kept helping him cheat.

She walked down the shelves as the books glared down at her, scolding her for being so naive, so blind. She’d done this to herself. Everything that happened to her now was her own fault.

She thought about hiding in her room, but that wouldn’t make anything better. Nothing would fix her mistake. Could she go to Master Kaernin? Would he understand what she’d done? That it’d been a mistake, that she hadn’t meant to help someone cheat? She knew she couldn’t go to Lady Emgard. She was the most successful mage in the kingdom. She wouldn’t understand why Aonva had done it. Aonva wasn’t sure she did.

“Aonva?”

She whirled around and saw Roshil. Her only friend in the entire kingdom. The only friend she’d ever had.

“Found her!” Roshil called over her shoulder, and Sirshi walked up.

“Great, can we go?” Sirshi asked, making no effort to keep her voice down. “I’m sure I have things to do that don’t involve books.”

“What’s wrong with books?” Roshil asked. “They’re great for learning things. Sometimes. When they’re not too dull.”

“Sure, but books can be taken away, and then what?”

Roshil elbowed Sirshi. “Don’t say things like that around Aonva.”

The two of them turned their attention back to Aonva. Roshil frowned at her.

“Are you alright?”

Aonva tried smiling, but she felt the tears start coming anyway. “I’m fine.”

“You’re crying,” Sirshi said. “That’s not fine.”

“See? That’s why you don’t say things about books disappearing around Aonva.”

“It’s not that,” Aonva said, trying to stop herself from crying. “I’m fine, really.”

“What happened?” Sirshi asked. “Did you miss a question on a test again? I don’t see what the big deal is about that. I do that all the time, but it never bothers me.”

While it was obvious even to Aonva that Sirshi didn’t care about this, Roshil kept frowning at her. She was worried. She cared. Aonva looked at Roshil through tear-stained eyes. The one person in the entire city who wouldn’t care that she’d cheated.

“I helped that boy I was talking about with his essay,” she said, keeping her voice down, “but it wasn’t really helping, he just copied off mine. Now he’s going to tell Master Rondin that I copied off his unless I help him cheat more. I can’t do anything about it, and I can’t stop it, and cheating’s not allowed for an apprentice, and if I get caught cheating, I might have my apprenticeship terminated, and I don’t know what to do!”

Sirshi’s face hardened into a glare.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, really, it was an accident, and—”

“Who’s this boy?” Sirshi demanded.

“His name is Naxta,” Aonva said.

“This is the boy from your history class?” Roshil asked.

Aonva nodded.

“Tell me where to find him,” Sirshi growled. “I’ll set him straight. Give me five minutes alone with him, and I’ll—”

“No!” Aonva said, still trying to keep her voice down. She glanced around, hoping no one was listening. They were all crammed into one of the aisles, so she couldn’t see much else.

“You don’t need to worry about him,” Roshil said. “We’ll take care of him for you.”

“But… but…”

“It’ll be fine,” Roshil said. She smiled, but it wasn’t reassuring. “I promise. Nothing will happen to you.”

“A lot’s gonna happen to him,” Sirshi said, clenching her fists.

“But… you…” Aonva struggled to find some argument to dissuade her friends from getting into more trouble. “What if you get caught?”

“We won’t,” Roshil said, exchanging glances with Sirshi. “No one’s going to find out about this.”

“Unless, of course, they already know about it,” a new voice said.

The girls all stood at attention as Lady Emgard hobbled into the row of books.

“My Lady Arch Mage,” Aonva gasped. Her throat suddenly felt too small. Her head began to spin. This was it. It was all over.

“Don’t worry, I came in around ‘what if you get caught’,” Lady Emgard said. “But then, I already know the whole story.”

Aonva stared wide-eyed at Lady Emgard. She couldn’t have figured it all out already. Could she? Of course, she could’ve, she was Lady Emgard, Lady Arch Mage of Skwyr Court. Dragons were afraid to go up against her.

“I just had the most peculiar conversation with Master Kaernin,” Lady Emgard said. “Peculiar, in part, because he initiated it, but also because Master Rondin told him that Apprentice Aonva’s essay was similar to another student’s essay. Almost identical, in fact. Master Rondin was afraid this boy was forcing Apprentice Aonva to help him cheat.”

Aonva briefly wondered why Master Kaernin had gone to Lady Emgard about this, but Lady Emgard would tell her if it were important.

“Now, based on the conversation I overheard, this is more or less accurate, and Apprentices Roshil and Sirshi are offering to silence this boy, to ensure that Apprentice Aonva doesn’t get in trouble.” She turned her stare that Aonva was convinced could see inside her mind on Roshil and Sirshi. “Apprentice Roshil, Apprentice Sirshi, shame on you both for conspiring to intimidate a student like that. The court does not operate that way. Apprentice Sirshi, Master Moudren would be most disappointed in you if she were here.”

Sirshi muttered something, but didn’t argue any further.

“As for you, Apprentice Roshil—”

“I—”

It was a universal law that when Lady Emgard raised her hand, everyone near her went silent. Her glare hardened just enough to ensure that this was always the case. As she lowered her hand and folded it on her staff with her other one, her gaze softened.

“I know Lord Grund has taught you better than that, Apprentice Roshil. The first thing is to apologize. I don’t need an explanation.”

“My apologies,” Roshil said.

“Sorry,” Sirshi added.

Lady Emgard smiled, then turned her gaze on Aonva. “Very good. Rest assured, as far as the court is concerned, the only problem here is that someone blackmailed and intimidated you into doing something you didn’t want to. Next time this happens, please talk to Master Kaernin or myself immediately so that we may handle it. That’s our job.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“Good. I will talk with Master Rondin for you this once, but in the future, this will be your responsibility.”

“I understand, My Lady.”

“Good. Then if there are no other problems to discuss, I’ll leave you ladies alone.”

The three of them stood at attention as Lady Emgard turned to leave.

“Although while I’m here,” she said as she stopped at the end of the aisle, “a word of advice to all three of you. As apprentices, you all have bright futures ahead of you. Never let anyone, especially men, change that. You decide where you go next.”

Aonva let Lady Emgard’s words sink in as she watched Lady Emgard leave. How many times had she let other people make decisions for her? Her parents had told her that she was supposed to be dependent on other people, that she had to act a certain way so people would like her. Here were Roshil and Sirshi, two people who defied everything her parents had ever told her. Roshil was her best friend, and Sirshi didn’t care if she never saw another person.

“So,” Roshil said, “books?”

“Sure,” Sirshi said. “Why not?”

Aonva smiled and nodded. As they all sat down in silence, Aonva began to think that maybe she could get better one day. She had friends that accepted her the way she was. She hoped that one day, that would be good enough.

#VolumeThree #TrueFriends

“That’s enough for today,” Master Ekla said, lowering her sword.

Kurgm felt like he’d collapse any moment. His own sword felt like lead in his hands. He wiped away sweat from his eyes.

“You sure?” he asked, panting. “I don’t know, I think I have you right where I want you.”

She sheathed her sword. “Sure. You should have enough time to wash up before dinner. Rest assured, this doesn’t come up much. The court prefers to think and reason through problems than applying brute force.”

He put away his own sword and grabbed his pack. He returned to his room and washed up. After putting the sword away, Kurgm started down to dinner.

Acting on instinct, he started down to the kitchens, but stopped.

You can’t be eating down in the kitchens. You will eat upstairs like an apprentice.

Kurgm didn’t much care for eating in the great hall, but as an apprentice, it was expected of him. Even with standing permission to eat in the kitchens, he knew he should be eating with the others.

He turned around and started back to the great hall, where apprentices were already starting to gather. He glanced around the tables and spotted Roshil and Aonva sitting together. Maybe Aonva wouldn’t mind him sitting with her again.

When the stress gets too much for her, she’ll crack and leave the court. If she isn’t having one problem, she’ll be having another. Once you forget about this incident, I’m sure they’ll be another.

Kurgm turned away and spotted Demndun. She saw him and smiled. He liked the way she smiled. It reminded him of the first rays of sun peeking through the temple windows.

He walked over and sat down next to her.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She grinned. “Your hair’s all wet.”

“Combat practice. Every knight needs to be ready to defend people in case a situation gets violent. I washed up before I came here.”

“You look really clean.”

“Oh. Um… thank you.”

Demndun found something interesting on the table that absorbed her attention.

“What did you do today?” Kurgm asked.

“I—”

“Decided to grace us with your presence?” Cremwa asked as she sat down on the other side of Demndun. Zifor and Muwen were right behind her, and sat down across from the three of them.

“I finished early,” Kurgm said. “Well, earlier than—”

“Some of us actually like spending time with people,” Cremwa said. “I’ve been helping Demndun with arcane language after dinner while you’ve been learning to be a soldier.”

“That depends on how you define ‘helping’,” Demndun muttered.

“Knights aren’t soldiers,” Kurgm said. “We’re—”

“I wouldn’t expect a knight to understand a mage.” She turned away from him and started to say something, but was cut off by the sound of every apprentice standing at attention.

The officers walked in, following by King Fohra. When the seven of them took their seats, Cremwa started talking again.

“Can you believe Apprentice Kemdra?” Cremwa said as she started putting food on her plate. “The nerve of her. She accused me of cheating today.”

“She’s just jealous,” Muwen said through a mouthful of food. “Probably annoyed that you have time to make friends.”

“Cheating’s a big deal,” Kurgm said. “You could—”

“You’re right,” Cremwa said, ignoring Kurgm. “She is jealous. Not everyone can be as perfect as me, right Demndun?”

“Sure.”

Kurgm realized Oshal hadn’t arrived yet. He looked around the great hall and spotted Oshal sitting with another group of apprentices.

“Why’s Oshal sitting over there?” Kurgm said, taking advantage of Cremwa having food in her mouth.

“He’s friends with everyone,” Zifor said. “He doesn’t always sit with us.”

“Which you’d know if you ever showed up,” Cremwa added. She turned her attention back to Zifor and Muwen.

“It’s alright,” Demndun said. “I like that you work hard.” She glanced at Cremwa and agreed with something Kurgm hadn’t caught.

“It’s not always a choice,” Kurgm said. “Master Ekla works me pretty hard.”

“But you still keep up. That’s something. I can’t always keep up with what Master Silbrom tells me. She talks really fast sometimes. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Zifor asked, a goofy grin on his face.

“What slackers weavers are,” Muwen said through a laugh.

Zifor responded by punching him in the arm.

“I think we were talking about me,” Cremwa said, glaring at Kurgm. “Stop trying to hog all the attention.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…”

Kurgm was starting to get the sense that Cremwa had a problem with him. He didn’t know what it was, but this wasn’t the first time she’d been like this. Even then, Kurgm thought she was worse than usual.

“Demndun,” he said while Zifor and Muwen had Cremwa distracted, “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the gardens after dinner. I know it’s cold out, but I thought it might be nice.”

Demndun looked down and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I promised Cremwa we would study together tonight.” She tried smiling, but still looked sad. “I really am sorry. I have an exam tomorrow, and I need the extra help.”

After dinner, Kurgm walked alone to the gardens.

He wrapped a cloak and scarf around himself, then trudged through a fresh layer of snow. Despite the snow, children still ran around the gardens, illuminated by floating orbs of light. Druids went to their sleeping area, made distinct by being the only ones not bundled up. Near the end of the procession, walking slowly off to the side, was Oshal. He walked alongside a druid.

“Oshal!” Kurgm called.

Oshal twitched his head and smiled. He and his friend made their way to Kurgm.

“Hello, Kurgm.” He motioned to his friend. “This is Apprentice Nourd. He’s a druid.”

“I figured. No one else would be warm this time of year without a cloak.”

“Why is there glass on your face?” Nourd asked.

“They’re glasses,” Kurgm said, adjusting them. “They help me see.”

“Why? Are you blind like Oshal?” He turned to Oshal. “Why do you not use glass?”

“I’m not blind, I just have trouble seeing things far away.”

Nourd stepped closer and smelled him.

“Um…” Kurgm didn’t know how to respond to any of that. Being smelled by someone was a first for him.

“I remember you,” Nourd said. “You were the male that the female wanted to mate with.”

Kurgm wouldn’t have thought a situation in which he’d been smelled could’ve been made more awkward, but Nourd had found a way.

“Nourd, that wasn’t polite,” Oshal said.

“But—”

“It wasn’t polite.”

Nourd frowned at Oshal. “Is this another part of ‘manners’?”

“Yes.”

“Which part? Am I not supposed to remember people?”

“No, but…” Oshal turned to Kurgm. “Excuse us, Kurgm. It was nice to talk to you again.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Oshal led Nourd away, talking in a low voice.

Kurgm watched them go. He didn’t feel like spending time in the gardens anymore. Even being around Oshal, which usually made him feel more comfortable, didn’t have its usual effect.

Maybe I just can’t get along with other people.

#VolumeThree #FittingIn

Kurgm met Master Ekla in one of the training rooms the next day. His stomach churned at the thought of another lesson in pretending he’d be able to defend someone one day.

“Before we start on combat and defense, we’re going to practice using ki,” Master Ekla said. She motioned to a corner of the room. “You can put your gear down over there, you won’t need it yet.”

Kurgm did as he was told, then sat down where Master Ekla indicated.

Today’s already shaping up to be better than yesterday.

“Close your eyes, and concentrate on your hearing. Feel the energy flowing through you. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Every breath connects you to the world.”

Kurgm felt the troubles of the past slipping away. With each deep breath, more sounds came into focus. He heard people in other rooms walking around, soft footsteps echoing from far away. Even Master Ekla’s light footfalls became clearer. He listened to her walking to the other side of the room as she brought her voice to a whisper.

“Can you still hear me?”

Kurgm nodded, afraid to hear what his own voice would sound like.

“Good. Open your eyes.”

Kurgm did as he was told. The world didn’t seem as bright as it had when he’d closed them.

“Your vision won’t be as good now that you’re focusing your ki on your hearing.”

He nodded. He already knew that, but Master Ekla tended to talk about anything to keep testing him when they did this.

“Stand up.” When he had, she continued. “Walk slowly around the room.”

This was something he hadn’t completely mastered. One day, he’d be able to channel his ki with minimal effort on his part, even through his weapon in times of crisis. For now, he settled for being able to walk and channel it at the same time.

Master Ekla walked around, staying on the opposite side of the room, still talking in a quiet voice.

“Stop. Turn around. Walk the other way.”

She continued to give him instructions, telling him to walk faster or slower, to turn around, anything to verify that he could still hear her.

“You’re doing well.”

He winced when she drew her sword. The sound of it unsheathing sounded like someone had rung a bell next to his ear.

Panic started to set in. She wasn’t about to attack him, was she?

His eyes darted over to the other side of the room where his gear lay. He’d never reach it before she got to him. He’d have to figure out how to get around her.

His attention returned to Master Ekla as she ran at him, sword raised.

Kurgm ran to his left, trying to get around her. He stumbled and fell, then scrambled to his feet. His foot caught something, and he went tumbling back down. Before he could get back up, Master Ekla planted her foot on his chest.

“If you’d kept up your hearing,” she said, “you would’ve heard me say ‘Don’t move, I’m not going to hurt you’.”

She removed her foot and offered him a hand to get up.

“I couldn’t hear after you unsheathed your sword. It was too loud.”

“There will be times when you’re escorting a shipment and people attack you. People who know how ki works, and know that if they hide in the woods, you’ll have to listen for an attack. Banging something together is a good way to throw off someone who isn’t used to it. You’ll have a split second to react before the attackers press forward to take the shipment from you.”

Kurgm thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.

“I don’t understand what the lesson here is. Was I supposed to have stopped listening?”

Master Ekla shook her head. “You did exactly what I’d expect you to do. What you should do is use your ki to recover. While it can augment your hearing, it can also repair them after a loud sound like that. That’s today’s lesson. Let’s start over.”

After a few painful tries, Kurgm began to pick up how to fix his hearing after Master Ekla tortured his ears.

“Like defense, channeling ki doesn’t come up much in a knight’s daily life,” she said as he gathered his belongings for class. “Most of what you need it for is listening for a lost or hidden child, or helping carry something. Within these walls, our responsibilities are mostly resolving disputes or providing a helping hand.”

Kurgm nodded. Once again, he already knew it, but Master Ekla liked reassuring him that he wasn’t a complete failure.

“Can’t defend anyone,” he muttered. “Can’t talk right, can’t make friends.”

I’m going to be a horrible knight.

“Stop being hard on yourself. This isn’t easy for anyone, but you’re doing fine with ki channeling. You’re actually good at it. Also, you have friends, but judging by your tone, something’s going on with them.”

“It’s nothing.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to get into it with Master Ekla. Although, she had a solution for every other problem in the world.

“If it turns out to be something,” Master Ekla said, “tell me after class. If you don’t leave now, you’re going to be late.”

Kurgm dropped of his gear in his room and grabbed his pack. Hoping he hadn’t forgotten any of his books, he trotted through the corridors. He passed through the door into the school, the feeling that he was running late already driving him on.

I wonder if this is how Aonva feels all the time.

He put her out of his mind as he reached the classroom. The bells tolled to announce the start of another lesson just as he sat down.

“Right on time,” Demndun whispered from the seat next to him.

He smiled at her, struggling to catch his breath.

“Told you he’d make it,” Zifor said to Muwen, the pair of whom were sitting in front of Kurgm and Demndun.

“Today we move onto the port city of Zensin,” the teacher began. “Despite being on the opposite end of the continent from Skwyr Court, Zensin was the ninth city to become part of the kingdom. As we have discussed in previous lectures, progress continued south, heading toward the coast. The goal was to establish trade routes with other kingdoms across the sea, and to allow travel between them all.”

Kurgm adjusted his glasses and watched the teacher point out each point in the route down to Zensin on a map in front of the class.

In front of him, Muwen muttered something to Zifor.

“Sh,” Kurgm hissed.

Muwen glared at him for a moment, then went back to trying to talk to Zifor. To his credit, Zifor was trying to ignore Muwen too.

“The only one who I’ve ever seen get him to stop talking is Cremwa,” Demndun muttered as she copied down notes. “You just have to ignore him.”

Once again, Kurgm found himself not understanding his new friends, and wondering if he ever would.

#VolumeThree #FittingIn

After dinner went about the same as the night before, Kurgm woke up groggy. He was hardly in the mood to do anything, but he dragged himself out of bed anyway. For the first time in many years, he contemplated not going to temple.

No matter what happens, the temple is how we stay grounded. Olmgra reminds us that every day can be bright and shining. All we have to do is try.

The thought of his mother made him smile, even if only for a moment. A scream echoed around his head, but faded away as he started moving through his morning routine. Wash. Dress. Gear. Bag. He made sure he had everything in case Master Ekla decided to ambush him again.

He liked the Sun Welcoming Ceremony. True to his mother’s words, it always made him feel like anything could happen. Even if everything always went wrong after that, he never gave up hoping. Maybe today would be different.

After they welcomed the sun, someone called to him.

“Apprentice Kurgm.”

Oshal made his way over to Kurgm, greeting several people on the way.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“Better, thank you.” Kurgm was a little surprised to realize that he meant it. “You?”

“I’m alright. Is it alright if I join you for breakfast?”

“Of course.”

They walked to the great hall together. Oshal tapped his way through the corridors. Apprentices were converging on the great hall.

“Is it hard to get around in crowds?” Kurgm asked, watching the steady stream of people entering the great hall ahead of them.

“Not really. I can sense where everyone is, so it’s actually easier.”

“Hi, Oshal,” a girl said.

“Hello, Apprentice Minem. Are you still going to the forest today?”

“I am. I’m pretty excited.”

“Have fun.”

“Thanks!”

Kurgm leaned down to Oshal. “Who was that?”

“Apprentice Minem. She’s an apprentice druid a little younger than my sister. Today’s the first day she gets to explore the forest.”

“Hey, Oshal!”

Oshal turned and raised his hand, and another boy slapped his palm as he walked past.

“Hello, Apprentice Parom. How are things at the Temple of the Known Shadow?”

“Settling down after the Ceremony of Approaching Dark, thanks for asking. Have a good one!”

“You too.”

“Apprentice priest?” Kurgm asked.

“In the Temple of the Known Shadow. I like it there. I never feel like I’m missing anything.”

They sat down together with the others.

“Good morning, everyone,” Oshal said. “How is everyone this morning?”

“It’s too early!” Cremwa whined. “How am I supposed to get my beauty sleep if they make me wake up this early?”

“Can you not complain for five minutes?” Demndun asked. “Or is that too much to ask for the Great Cremwa?”

Kurgm pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh.

“How was the ceremony?” Zifor asked them after the officers arrived and breakfast started.

“It was nice,” Oshal said. “You should come back some time. I think you’d like it.”

“Sounds like fun,” Cremwa said. “Waking up before the sun comes up every day.”

“No one asked you, Cremwa,” Demndun said.

“I might go back,” Zifor said.

“Don’t your parents still go there?” Muwen asked. “They’ll probably hug you and get all mushy.” He wrapped his arms around himself. “‘Oh Zifor, our little pumpkin wumpkin, we missed you so much! Mwah! Mwah!’”

Zifor punched him amidst a chorus of giggles. Kurgm smiled, trying to get along, but he didn’t think it was that funny. Maybe it was because he didn’t have parents? But Oshal was smiling, so maybe it was just Kurgm.

Maybe he didn’t fit in with them.

He glanced over at Roshil and Aonva. The former was chatting away to the latter, who had her head buried in a book.

Must have an exam coming up.

Knowing Aonva, she’d already read the same book three times, and only then because she hadn’t had the time to read it a fourth. Why was it so much easier to talk to her than his new friends? Even Roshil and Sirshi were easier to talk to. At least he understood them well enough, apart from Roshil’s blatant disregard for the rules.

Oshal nudged him.

“Stop staring,” he said so no one else could hear.

Kurgm didn’t know how Oshal knew he’d been staring, but he tried to focus on the conversation around him. He barely followed any of it; they were talking about something from before they had all become apprentices.

“It might be nice to see the neighborhood again,” Demndun said. “Remember Old Lady Domna? She used to leave fresh baked cookies on the window sill, and didn’t mind if a few went missing.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Muwen said. “Half the grownups would yell at me for something I didn’t do.”

“At least,” Zifor said, “something they can’t prove that you did.”

If Kurgm didn’t know Master Ekla or Aonva, he’d have thought everyone broke the rules without a second thought. Sirshi and Roshil certainly didn’t care. Oshal usually didn’t, though. At least it wasn’t just him this time.

After breakfast, Master Ekla told him to take some time off before going to class. He walked through the corridors, then through the door to the Temple of the Rising Sun. He saw Sirshi disappear into the back with Master Moudren. For a moment, he wondered if talking to Sirshi would make him feel better, but she was busy, so he walked through the door on the other side of Olmgra’s statue. He bowed on his way past, then went to the Meditation Chamber.

With his troubles shut on the other side of the door, he knelt before the smaller statue of Olmgra.

“A knight can help people. So why can’t I? I can’t fit in with anyone. I can’t make friends. I… I had friends. Well, a friend. But I don’t think she wants to talk to me anymore. I made a mistake. Now I don’t know what to do. I tried fitting in somewhere else, but it’s not working. I can’t make other friends.”

He thought of Demndun and how nice she always was to him. He wanted to talk to her, but then Cremwa kept interrupting. He didn’t want to pull Demndun away from her other friends, and he couldn’t get along with them. That left no one.

“I could never make friends before. Master Ekla worked me pretty hard, so I could never get to dinner. She stopped last year, and it was nice for a while, getting to have friends. But then everything went wrong. Roshil enchanted Aonva, but Aonva still wanted to be friends with her, and my uncle said people like that don’t change. Either of them. When Oshal introduced me to Demndun, I thought that’d be better. But now I realize I don’t fit in with them either. I’m just alone. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

Kurgm sat alone with his thoughts for a time. Class would be starting soon, so he stood up, hoping Olmgra would send him some sort of sign. As far as he could tell, she was waiting for him to figure it out.

“Thank you for listening.” After bowing again, Kurgm turned and left.

Before he left the temple, he bowed again to the statue of Olmgra.

Make today a bright day.

Kurgm wanted to, but he didn’t know how anymore.

Hurried footsteps announced Sirshi’s walk through the temple.

“Hello, Sirshi.”

“Running late, can’t talk.”

Kurgm glanced at the clock, and realized he too was running behind.

He ran to catch up to Sirshi.

“Class?” he asked.

“Yeah.” They both kept a quick pace going through the corridors, careful not to run. “You?”

“Same. Didn’t realize the time.”

They got to the north tower and went to their respective rooms. Kurgm rounded up his things, then nearly ran out the door. Sirshi left just after him.

“Sirshi, do you ever have trouble making friends?”

“No, I have trouble getting rid of friends.”

“What?”

“I have too many friends.”

Kurgm frowned. He’d only ever seen Sirshi with Roshil and Aonva.

“How many friends do you have?”

“I don’t know, three maybe?”

Their boots skidded on the floor as they turned a corner.

“How is three too many friends?”

“They keep asking me if I want to do things. Or telling me about their problems. Most of the time, I just want to be left alone.”

“Why?”

“I like being alone.”

I wish it were that easy.

They separated after going through the door to the school. Kurgm kept thinking about what Sirshi had said. It wasn’t that easy. He couldn’t stop wanting to have friends. He’d gotten so used to it over the past year.

He sat down in class and tried to concentrate on schoolwork, but the idea that he didn’t have a choice stuck. Maybe it was his only option. Maybe he just had to get used to not having friends.

#VolumeThree #FittingIn

That afternoon, Master Ekla drilled him on focusing his ki again. He didn’t mind, since it was the only part of being a knight that he could ever get right.

When she was satisfied that he could recover his senses well enough, she stopped them for the day.

“Something on your mind?” she asked. “You’ve been more down than usual.”

Kurgm remembered that Master Ekla, while primarily a master knight, was also a master weaver. And master druid, so she could probably smell misery on him or something.

“Did… did you have trouble making friends?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Kurgm should’ve expected that answer. Master Ekla was good with people. She was good with everyone. Every problem they had to solve, she not only knew the answer, but how to phrase it so people would listen. When he was younger, Kurgm remembered seeing her with Lord Velal mostly, but there must’ve been plenty of times when she was out with the hundreds of friends she must’ve had.

“I didn’t try. I used to have a friend, but when I was accepted as an apprentice and he wasn’t, we grew apart. I didn’t have a lot of time to spend with him, and my father drove me to work harder than everyone else. Even when I spent time with the other apprentices, we never connected. So I didn’t worry about it.”

That sounded more like him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to understand Demndun’s friends. If it weren’t for Oshal, he didn’t think he’d get along with any of them.

“Don’t do what I did,” Master Ekla said. “You have friends.”

“I guess.”

“Skipping over whatever happened between you and Apprentice Aonva, who I’m sure wouldn’t mind seeing you again, what about Apprentice Demndun? She seems nice.”

“When we’re alone, it’s fine. I can sort of talk to her, but when we’re with her friends, it’s impossible. I can’t understand them. They’ve been friends since they were children, and I can’t fit in with them.”

He didn’t want to mention the potential breaking of rules. They hadn’t said they did, but they had implied it. It wasn’t right to blame someone without evidence, and he didn’t have any.

Master Ekla motioned for him to sit down on the ground. She did the same after he had.

“I knew a girl once who grew up without any friends. She had people who loved her, but she couldn’t fit in with anyone her own age. Then she met another girl who also had trouble fitting in. Now the two are best friends, practically inseparable.”

“But I don’t have anyone like that.”

“You’re right. You don’t.”

“Great pep talk.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep trying. If this group of people isn’t right for you, then maybe you need to find another one. Or, if you really like Apprentice Demndun, then ask her to spend more time with you. I can ask Master Silbrom to let her have time off with you, but you have to ask Apprentice Demndun first.”

“We sometimes go out to the gardens,” Kurgm said. “We go to one of the moonlit gardens sometimes and just talk for a while.”

It wasn’t always easy to find something about which they could talk. It’d been easier with Aonva. Almost any topic, especially academics, would get Aonva talking. She was a wealth of information about the court, dragons, history, the temples. Almost anything.

“Do that, then.” Master Ekla stood up. “Like I said, don’t be like me. Go out, make friends, and have a life. I didn’t have any of that, but you can.”

Kurgm stood up and gathered his things. “Thank you.”

Master Ekla nodded. “You’re welcome.” She waved him away. “Now go away.”

Kurgm smiled to himself as he left the practice room and headed to dinner. When he arrived, he was lucky enough to find Demndun already there, without the others.

“Hello,” he said as he sat down.

“Hi.” She averted her eyes for a moment, then looked back at him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Me too. What’s yours?”

“Would you like to go to the gardens tonight?” she asked. “I know it’s cold, but you asked yesterday, so I thought you’d like to go again?”

Kurgm smiled and nodded. “That’s what I was going to ask.”

Demndun lit up. “Great! Right after dinner, before it gets too dark?”

“Yeah.”

Even with the others there, dinner flew by. Kurgm walked with Demndun to the north tower to grab heavier clothes. Kurgm waited for Demndun to come out. When she did, she had on a matching scarf, hat, and mittens.

“Don’t laugh,” she said. “Old Lady Domna made them for me. They’re really warm, and I get cold easily.”

“She sounds nice,” he said as they started walking.

“She is. She used to look after all of us when our parents were away.” They stepped through the door to the gardens into the cold. “What about you? You never talk about what it was like growing up in the castle.”

They trudged through fresh snow on their way to the closest of the moonlit gardens. Druids walked passed them on their way to the druid’s sleeping area, which sat next to the moonlit garden. They walked through the gap in the evergreen trees to find it deserted.

“My parents died when I was little,” he said. Something flickered around in his head for a moment, but vanished before he could find it. “I was raised by Our Lord True Knight.”

“I’m sorry. You never said.”

“I don’t like to talk about it. I do like hearing about all the adventures you had.”

So long as they don’t involve breaking rules, although I think they all do.

They sat down on a bench. Demndun slid closer to him.

“It’s still cold,” she said.

He started to protest that it wasn’t, but Demndun wrapped her arm around his, and his mind stopped.

“That’s better,” she said.

She rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, he rested his head on hers. Maybe he didn’t fit in with her friends, but that didn’t matter. He fit in just fine with her.

#VolumeThree #FittingIn

Ekla walked through the court. Even though she’d been a master druid for several months, she still wasn’t used to not needing a cloak to keep her warm.

You can draw heat from the earth. She has plenty to spare.

She passed the gardens and wondered about Kurgm. She wasn’t sure about his new friends, but if he was happy for now, she’d keep a good thought.

Following the river, Ekla arrived at the cemetery and pushed the gate open. She nodded to the groundskeeper on her way past, making her way through the tombstones. In other cities, more prominent members of society got bigger, more elaborate tombstones. But in the court, everyone was equal, so officers and common folk alike where treated the same.

There’s nothing common about them, Apprentice Ekla. Everyone is extraordinary in their own way.

She found her way to one grave in particular.

Lady Enrakal Mother, Wife, Sister, Friend Protecting Olmgra’s Kingdom as she protected ours

“My Lady.” Ekla bowed respectfully, then knelt down in front of the grave. “I know I haven’t been by to visit in a while. I’ve been busy.”

That’s because you’ve always worked too hard.

“Kurgm is doing well. He’s struggling to make friends. I wish I could say he was talking with Apprentice Aonva again, but I don’t know where they stand, or what happened. He won’t talk about it. Sometimes I see him looking at her like he wants to talk to her again, but something’s stopping him. He’s getting friendly with Apprentice Demndun, though. Lady Emgard says she’s sweet, and I think that will be good for him. I still wish he’d get back with Apprentice Aonva, but that’s because she reminds me a lot of myself at her age. I don’t think they were ever a couple, but I could see it starting. Then your brother happened and…”

Ekla stopped herself before she got too far. She couldn’t prove that Amnadm had had anything to do with Kurgm not talking to Aonva anymore, but the timing couldn’t have been a coincidence. Amnadm was like a tornado; he swept in and wrecked everything in his path, especially where Kurgm was involved.

“He really wants to make you proud. I did too, when I was his age. I know I say it every time I visit, but thank you for believing in me. For seeing past what my father wanted from me.”

Her mind drifted away for a moment, back to another time. She didn’t let it linger there long.

“He’ll make a good knight one day. He’d never believe it now, but I know he will. Lord Velal did a good job raising him. He still checks in on Kurgm sometimes. Better than—” She stopped herself before making another remark about Amnadm.

Kurgm’s only living relative, and he can’t be bothered to write to him. Fine. It’s fine. It’s probably for the best.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down.

“They’re both doing great.”

And how are you doing, Master Ekla?

“I’m working on my priest apprenticeship. Lady Runslo says I’m almost finished, but she’s been saying that for months, so I think she just says that. I’ve learned a lot about the different religions. I’m still not going to join a temple, but I’ve learned they do a lot more than I realized.”

She smiled for a moment, but she could feel Lady Enrakal’s stare on her, looking straight past her facade. Ekla could never lie to her.

“Sometimes I feel like I’ve got to look out for three apprentices. I know Lord Grund looks out for Apprentice Roshil, but I feel responsible for her. And I want to know that my father didn’t do too much damage to Sirshi. I thought… I thought if they gave each other a chance, they’d come to some sort of understanding. I thought I could give him a chance, but he threw it in Sirshi’s face. I want to know that telling our father how she was doing won’t hurt her anymore.”

Ekla took a breath and reminded herself that neither Apprentice Aonva nor Apprentice Oshal needed her to look out for them. Neither did Sirshi or Roshil, but Ekla felt like it was her responsibility. She understood what they were all going through, and she wanted to help them through it.

Apprentice Ekla, you shouldn’t work so hard. You’ll make the rest of us look bad.

Ekla let out a quick laugh, then straightened up. Sometimes, she truly believed that Lady Enrakal was listening. Even if she wasn’t, Ekla could imagine what she’d say.

“When Lord Velal took charge of Kurgm, I could tell it was hard. He tried so hard not to let it show, but I could still see it. The more I remember about it, the more I see it. It’s hard for me too. I keep wishing I knew exactly what to say to make him happy. To see him happy, but I don’t know. He isn’t like everyone else.” She smiled at the grave. “Of course, he’s not. He’s your son.”

Ekla stood up and bowed.

“I should go. I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll keep taking care of him as best I can.”

I know you will. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too.

“Of course, My Lady.”

She bowed again, then bowed to the grave next to hers.

Master Soorgom Father, Husband, Friend A mind such as his doesn’t come by often

Apart from knowing him as “The Brilliant Master Soorgom”, Ekla hadn’t known Kurgm’s father well. Nevertheless, she took time to pay her respects to both his parents.

Ekla turned and started out of the cemetery. A calming feeling came over her. She could hear the sounds of the court not far away, but a peace prevailed inside the cemetery. She walked among the greats of Skwyr Court.

Before she left, Ekla stopped at one last grave. As far as she knew, it was the one grave in the entire cemetery whose occupant had never stepped foot inside the court.

Prenowla Loving Mother and Wife Protecting the innocent to the very end

“I’ll keep your family safe,” Ekla said as she bowed. “I promise.”

#VolumeThree #FittingIn

After the last of the worshipers left the Flower Blooming Ceremony, Sirshi, along with a few other apprentice priests, cleaned up after the ceremony. Sirshi didn’t know any of their names, nor did she particularly care. While Master Moudren was the head priest of Skwyr Court’s temple, other priests served as well, trading off days for the Sun Welcoming Ceremony every morning, and performing other ceremonies, like welcoming newborns into the temple. As such, she occasionally ran into the other priests and their apprentices, but she’d never had to learn the other apprentices’ names. Sirshi considered this a point of pride.

After they were finished clearing the temple and putting everything back where it belonged, the other priests left with their apprentices. Sirshi made her way to Master Moudren’s office, where the woman herself was waiting for her.

Master Moudren smiled and stood up.

“You did a good job today with the Flower Blooming Ceremony,” she said. “When you go on your fifth-year assignment, you will be in charge of the ceremony, and I think you’re well on your way to being prepared for it.”

Sirshi bowed, feeling her face flush a little.

“Thank you, Master Moudren.”

Master Moudren returned to the seat at her desk.

“Did you get along with the other apprentices?”

Sirshi nodded, her mind still on the Flower Blooming Ceremony. She’d managed to stay calm through the entire ceremony, which she thought was an accomplishment, considering neither Roshil nor Aonva had opted to go. Roshil had been worried about the previous year, and Aonva had refused to go without Roshil.

“How are your friends?” Master Moudren asked. “I didn’t see either of them there. I hope Apprentices Roshil and Aonva know they are always welcome in Olmgra’s house.”

“We welcome them,” Sirshi muttered.

“Have other people been causing them problems?”

Sirshi had a clear memory of the previous year. Being nervous about helping with the ceremony, but seeing a crowd of people cast her friends out. She’d wanted to scream at them to get lost, but she was certain that wasn’t okay.

“Yeah, but that’s how people are.” Sirshi felt her temper rising, and tried to keep it in check. “People avoid them at meals, harass them when they think no one’s looking, treat them both like they’re—”

“If either girl is having problems,” Master Moudren said, a frown on her face, “I would hope Our Lord High Artisan or Master Kaernin would be made aware of this.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t think either of them wants to cause problems.” Sirshi folded her arms. “And neither will tell me who’s giving them problems. I’ll make sure it stops.”

“With a strongly worded lecture, I hope.”

The way Master Moudren said that caused Sirshi to realize she was getting angry again. She unfolded her arms and sat up straight.

“So long as they know that we welcome them here, and that’s all that matters. Moving on, there’s something else I’d like to discuss.”

“Something else I’d like to discuss” sounded like “Something else Sirshi needs to be doing”, which sounded like more work. Had she been forgetting something? Sirshi couldn’t think of anything, but maybe there was something about which she’d forgotten. Her parents had always found something about which she’d forgotten. Not to shout at the table, not to talk at the table, not to show her face when company was over, not to talk back to her parents, not to talk back to her sister, not to talk at all…

“Each temple provides assistance to the community in some way. The priests of Yvgrengher provide access to books and literature, priests of Melndn help people live with fear, and priests of Rendlok assist artisans in construction.”

Sirshi nodded. This all sounded familiar to her. She’d served at each of the temples, even if she had already known where she’d wanted to be.

“I remember.”

“Good. Do you remember what priests of Olmgra are supposed to do?”

“Spread hope in the community.”

Master Moudren smiled, but not like other adults smiled. When they smiled, it was because they were about to load up Sirshi with extra work because she’d made a mistake, or because they were delighted by how miserable Sirshi was about to be. Master Moudren was proud of her. No one else had ever been proud of her for anything.

“Very good. Given that people aren’t your expertise, I wanted to talk about ways in which we can spread hope.”

Sirshi sat and listened as Master Moudren gave her an overview of various ways in which priests spread hope. A lot of it was dealing with other peoples’ problems, assuring them that it wasn’t the end of the world, and that they could keep pushing forward no matter what.

That began to worry Sirshi. She wasn’t any good at any of it. She didn’t like listening to other peoples’ problems, despite often listening to those of Roshil or Aonva. In that matter, she rarely had a choice, apart from moving away from her friends at meals, and she didn’t care enough. She ate and half listened to them talk, knowing that eventually the other would chime in and all Sirshi had to do was agree with something. At least, that’s how it went when Aonva had some sort of problem, usually involving a textbook she’d only read ten times, and was afraid that she needed to read it ten more in order to be prepared.

When Sirshi left that morning for class, she still wasn’t certain about it. But she knew she needed to. It was the responsibility of a priest of Olmgra to spread hope in the community. Why did it have to be that? Why couldn’t their community service have been leaving people in the community alone?

She couldn’t let Master Moudren down, though. She had to start learning how to bring hope to people. One day, she’d be a priest of Olmgra, and that would be part of it.

Unless not being able to meant she couldn’t be a priest.

#VolumeThree #HopeForTheFuture