The warmth of the castle hit him when Kurgm walked inside. It felt like walking into a warm blanket after months of being cold.

They walked to the forge. People were all working, but there was no sign of Lord Grund.

“What are you doing here?”

Roshil’s head popped up from behind one of the furnaces. Goggles covered her eyes, but Kurgm still felt a chill run down his spine. He knew not to show it, but it was hard to look at Roshil sometimes.

“What’s wrong with her?” he’d asked after they’d met for the first time.

“Nothing. She’s just different.” That was all the explanation Master Ekla ever gave him.

“We’re here to speak with Our Lord High Artisan. Is he here?”

Roshil looked around as though she had forgotten there were other people in the forge.

“He was here a moment ago,” she said. “We were just talking about cross-stitching.”

“That was three hours ago, Apprentice Roshil.”

Lord Grund wheeled into view from around a corner. Unlike Roshil, his face wasn’t covered in sweat and ash.

Both Master Ekla and Kurgm stood at attention. Roshil went back to her work.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Kurgm found it odd how the other officers always greeted visitors with some version of “How may I help you?”, but Lord Grund had always greeted them with some form of “What do you want?”.

“Apprentice Kurgm needs glasses, My Lord.”

Grund wheeled around to face Roshil. “Apprentice Roshil!”

Roshil’s face popped up from behind the furnace again.

“What?”

“Drop that and follow me.”

“I’m busy!”

“Making a sword that would lose to a wet noodle! Drop it!”

Roshil barked something in what Kurgm guessed was the arcane language, then left her work on an anvil and ran over to them. Judging by Master Ekla’s reaction, he didn’t want to know what it was she’d said.

“Apprentice Roshil! Who taught you to say that?”

“She probably heard it from me,” Lord Grund said, already taking off toward another corridor.

Master Ekla closed her eyes, and, judging by the exasperated look on her face, counted to ten. When she finished, she and Kurgm trotted to catch up to Grund and Roshil.

Lord Grund led them to another room. It was small, with a line of shelves in it. Grund took a pair of goggles off the shelf and handed them to Kurgm.

“Put these on, then stare out the door.”

Kurgm did as he was told. He watched out the door, his eyes following the other people running around the forge, until Lord Grund told him to stop.

Grund took the goggles and glanced at them.

“Yup. You need glasses.” He handed the goggles to Roshil, who also looked at them and nodded.

“Apprentice Roshil, you’re supposed to be writing down those numbers, not agreeing with me.”

“How was I supposed to know if you didn’t tell me?”

“You ask.”

Roshil grumbled something, but took out a piece of paper and wrote down some numbers. Kurgm could barely make out that there were numbers on the goggles.

“I’ve got work to do. Apprentice Roshil will explain what comes next.”

Despite Roshil’s protests, Lord Grund wheeled around and left the room.

“I still have some questions for Our Lord High Artisan that Apprentice Roshil clearly doesn’t know the answers to.” Ekla turned to Kurgm. “You stay here until I come back.”

Kurgm and Roshil stood to attention as Master Ekla left the room.

“Did you know there were protests going on in the city?” Kurgm asked.

“No, but why wouldn’t there be? It’s not like the court’s perfect. Of course people will be upset about something.”

Kurgm frowned. That didn’t seem right to him. People shouldn’t be upset. The officers and masters all worked hard for the people.

“The thing about people is that they always think about themselves first,” Roshil continued. “If other people are suffering too, well they’ll get to it when they have time.”

“His Majesty isn’t like that! Our Lord True Knight isn’t like that! They’d give their lives to help the people!”

“They’re nicer than their counterparts in other kingdoms, but that doesn’t mean much. They’re still people. If you’re so worried about the state of things, go out there and protest with them. Tell Our Lord True Knight that it’s a big problem, but he probably already knows.”

Kurgm couldn’t believe an apprentice would have such disrespect for the people that cared for their kingdom. The officers loved every citizen in the court like family, that’s why they were chosen as officers. Didn’t Roshil understand that? Was it because she hadn’t grown up in the court that she didn’t understand?

“You’re wrong.”

“Then why aren’t the officers fixing it? I’ve been to enough places to see it’s the same everywhere. People protest, those in charge wait it out until people get tired and forget about it. Nothing changes.”

“You’re wrong!”

“A dragon attacked a farm. That’s what they’re upset about, right? That’s easy to deal with. Go kill the dragon for breaking the treaty!”

As she spoke, Roshil’s voice grew louder and her whole body shook.

“Are you two getting along?”

They both stood at attention when Master Ekla returned.

“We’re fine, Master Ekla,” Kurgm said. “There’s not a problem.”

“I hope not.” Her gaze moved between the two of them. “Apprentice Kurgm, we can go. You’ll have glasses in a few days. Apprentice Roshil, Our Lord High Artisan would like to speak with you.”

“What did I do this time?”

“Watch your mouth. It’ll get you into trouble if you’re not careful.”

“It’s only trouble if you can’t get out of it.”

Master Ekla’s exasperated face reappeared.

“Please tell me Our Lord High Artisan didn’t teach you that.”

“Nope. That’s from my father.”

Kurgm was becoming curious about Roshil’s father. He’d learned that not only had he taught her to pick locks, but also apparently had some lax views on morality.

“Of course he did. Is he keeping to his agreement with His Majesty?”

“Of course!”

“Good. I’d hate to see your father arrested.” She emphasized the last word, then turned to Kurgm. “Apprentice Kurgm.”

He turned to Roshil, but wasn’t sure what to say. It hadn’t been a pleasant conversation to him, but she seemed as optimistic as ever. Whatever had come over her was gone.

They left the forge, but Roshil’s words stuck in his head. His Majesty wasn’t like that.

“His Majesty isn’t ignoring the protests, is he?”

Master Ekla froze in place.

“You shouldn’t need to ask that. Actually, you shouldn’t be asking that at all. Of course he’s not. They’re working on fixing the supply shortages right now.”

“Okay. That’s… that’s what I thought.”

He heard himself talking, but he wasn’t sure he believed it anymore. Roshil must’ve been wrong, but she knew more about the world outside the court than he did. What if Skwyr was slowly becoming like other kingdoms? What if they’d only pretended to be above them?

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

Kurgm slowly shook his head, his mind elsewhere.

“We don’t have to be anywhere for a few hours. Get some rest, and make sure you eat something. I’ll find you when it’s time to go back outside.”

Kurgm nodded, still lost in his thoughts.

#VolumeOne #KeepingThePeace

Kurgm walked into the Temple of the Rising Sun, but didn’t stay in the main chamber. Instead, he ducked through a side corridor. It was small, but as he walked down it, the sounds of the outside world faded away, leaving him alone.

At the end of the corridor was a small room with a soft floor. At the other end of the room sat an altar with a smaller statue of the Goddess Olmgra smiling down at anyone inside. At her feet was a silver basin that caught the light of the room and seemed to shine in it. When he closed the door behind him, all sound from outside cut out.

Kurgm walked up to the altar and knelt down. He was alone in the room, so he spoke to her out loud.

“My parents always said you guided them through hard times. Even…” He closed his eyes until the screams faded. “You gave them hope that tomorrow would be better. Well… I could use some of that hope right now. I’m not sure if what we’re doing is working. My parents served the court. I grew up believing in that. I believe in the servants of the court, but…” He closed his eyes again. Mad ramblings of nonsense joined the screams and cries, but he pushed those down too. “I’ve believed in people before that let me down. I—”

A sound caused him to jump. He snapped his head to his right, and saw another door opening. A young woman, about his age, held a silver chalice in one hand as she closed the door with the other. She turned around and jumped when she saw him.

“I didn’t realize anyone else was here,” she said. “I can come back.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kurgm said. He motioned up to the statue of the goddess. “She hasn’t said much anyway.”

The girl smiled, then walked over to the basin. She tipped the chalice and poured water into it. Kurgm was certain she was the new apprentice at the ceremony that morning.

“Have… have you seen the protests outside?” Kurgm asked.

“No.” She shook her head, sending her carefully arranged curls scattering over her face. She grimaced and rearranged them again. “No, I hadn’t. Is that why you’re here?”

Kurgm nodded, thankful that there was someone else to talk to.

“I thought it would be fine, but then a friend of mine mentioned how it is outside the court, and now I don’t know. What if Skwyr ends up the same? What if all that talk about freedom and equality and acceptance meant nothing?”

“I’m just here to refill the cleansing water.” The girl eyed him as though she thought he might attack her. She glanced at the door. “I need to do other things too.”

“But if it is a lie, wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Can it wait until I’m finished?” she asked.

He backed up to let her get to the basin. She began to pour water into it from the chalice in her hands.

“My… some people lecture me for worshipping her, but that hasn’t stopped me.” She nodded at the statue. “We’ve had faith, and she’s sent angels to help us in times of need. That’s what the court is, isn’t it? Except they send knights instead of angels.”

“We’re not just soldiers, we’re peacekeepers.”

“You’re… you’re a knight?”

“An apprentice knight. Apprentice Kurgm.”

“Apprentice Sirshi.” She nodded politely.

“Are you a priest?”

“Rotating through the temples right now, yes. I have to learn about all of them, not just the one I intend to serve.” She frowned at him. “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

“I come here every morning.”

She nodded, but furrowed her brow. After a moment, she returned to filling the basin. When she finished, she walked back to the door.

“As our goddess teaches us,” she said as she opened the door, “all will be well.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded again, then left the room. Before she left, she stopped.

“Good luck with your whole existential crisis thing.”

“Thank you. Good luck with whoever keeps lecturing you.”

She scowled for a moment. “Thanks.”

Kurgm looked up at the statue again. As nice as it’d been to have company, it hadn’t helped much. Having faith in the court was good, but he didn’t know if it was well placed. He’d always believed it was, but what if it wasn’t anymore? What if Roshil was right? What if Skwyr became like the other kingdoms?

He stood up, wondering if he could stumble upon Master Ekla. She might be able to set him straight. Or at least give him something to do to take his mind off his problems.

He bowed to the statue of the goddess, then left the room. He tried to keep his focus on where he was, if only to keep it off everything else. But before long he was back at the door to the castle.

He walked through the door. He barely felt the tingle of the magic doors anymore. When he stepped into the castle, he found the one person he wanted to see walking by.

“Apprentice Kurgm,” Lord Velal said.

Kurgm stood at attention.

“May I have a word, My Lord?”

“Only if you can do so while walking.”

He fell into step with Velal. He caught himself before he started explaining the last few hours, trying to figure out how to condense it.

“Have you been assigned protest duty yet?” Lord Velal asked.

“Yes, My Lord. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I talked with Apprentice Roshil earlier, and she seems to think the court’s not going to do anything.”

He criticized himself for naming Roshil. That could easily get her in trouble. Not could, would. He’d just outed her, and she was sort of his friend.

“I see. Not surprising, knowing her family.” He looked at Kurgm’s confused face, then added, “Both of her parents were betrayed by their respective kingdoms. That leaves a bitterness inside a person, so even after living here for so long, it will take longer for those scars to heal. So when she expects Skwyr to end up like them, it is only because she was taught to regard the kingdoms with distrust. Add to that her own history… I’ll only say that however scared those people are outside, Roshil is worse.” His face curled into a smile. “But I assure you, we are doing everything we can to restore peace.”

“They don’t think that outside.”

“They are afraid. As Roshil, you must forgive them what they say in the clutches of fear. People aren’t themselves when afraid.”

Kurgm let out a sigh he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. When he realized what he’d done, he straightened up again.

“Apologies, My Lord.”

“I’ve known you since you were born.” He winked at Kurgm. “I’ll let you get away with it this once. But don’t let Master Ekla catch you. To be honest, her dedication intimidates me sometimes.”

Kurgm pressed his lips together to force back a laugh.

“I’m glad to see you’re looking better. In the future, do remember that speaking out is welcome; it’s the only way we can know when something’s wrong. We do, however, discourage whining.”

They stopped walking. Lord Velal motioned down one corridor. “Now, I must be going. I believe you will be running into Master Ekla soon. Take care of yourself, Apprentice Kurgm.”

“Thank you, My Lord. You as well.”

He watched Lord Velal walk down the corridor, then turned and continued down his own path. All his life, Lord Velal had managed to find the right thing to say. He hoped that would be him one day.

#VolumeOne #KeepingThePeace

The next morning, Kurgm got to have breakfast. He’d ended up not needing to go on protest duty after the first round. The protesters had taken a break, but he’d been assured by Master Ekla that they’d be back. So far, he hadn’t needed to return.

As he walked into the hall, he spotted Sirshi sitting on her own. He walked over and smiled down at her.

“Is it alright if I join you?”

She stared at him as though she was surprised he existed.

“I guess,” she said.

“Thank you.” He sat down and put some food onto a plate. “Did you get everything done yesterday you wanted to?”

“Yeah.”

Kurgm began to get the sense that she wasn’t going to say much. They ate their food in silence for a few minutes before Aonva and Roshil showed up. Unlike Kurgm, they didn’t ask before sitting down.

“Got something for you.” Roshil handed him a case and sitting down next to Sirshi. “Worked on them all night.”

“She’s not kidding.” Aonva had taken a seat next to Kurgm, so she spotted Sirshi first. “I’m sorry. I’m Apprentice Aonva, and this is Apprentice Roshil.”

“Apprentice Sirshi.”

Kurgm took the case and opened it. He carefully took the pair of glasses out of it and put them on. The world came into focus. He could see faces across the dining hall. He could read signs posted on the walls. He could see!

“They’re great,” he said. “Thank you.”

Roshil beamed with pride.

Aonva shot her a significant glance. “And…?”

Roshil folded her arms and grimaced. “And I’m sorry if something I said yesterday upset you.”

“It… it made me think about everything, but I’m alright now.”

Roshil glared at Aonva for a moment, then put her head down on the table. She mumbled something Kurgm couldn’t hear as she shifted her arms around to make a pillow for her head.

“Sirshi,” Aonva said. “Are you a friend of Kurgm’s?”

“Not really,” Sirshi said.

“We met yesterday,” Kurgm said. “She’s a priest.”

Roshil picked up her head and looked at Sirshi as though she only just noticed her. “You look familiar.”

Sirshi met Roshil’s gaze for a moment, then looked away and moved ever so slightly away from her.

“Okay.”

Kurgm had the same feeling, like he’d seen her before. He knew he’d seen her at the temple, but it felt like he’d seen her lots of times before. Maybe he’d seen her around the castle.

“What’s going on with the protests today?” Roshil asked, putting her head back down.

“What protests?” Aonva asked.

“The people are annoyed with those in charge,” Roshil said. “Probably rightly so.”

“Roshil!” Aonva glanced up at the table where the officers sat. “Don’t say things like that. They work hard for us.”

“Our Lord True Knight said there was a problem with the trade routes, so the prices of food have gone up. I want to help, but… I’m not sure how.”

“Well…” Aonva looked down at her plate. “You could… at least, when there are big protests going on, when the knights join in, it tells the people that the knights are the same as them. Not just the knights, any servants of the court, really, but they see the knights more than anyone else. Historically, it always makes the people feel better and gives them hope that they’re making a difference. At least, that’s what I’ve read.”

Kurgm looked around for Master Ekla. He liked the idea of helping out, of walking with them. He wasn’t sure if they’d listen to him, but it was worth a try. Before he could do that, he’d need the day off, which was something he wasn’t likely to get unless Master Ekla let him.

He caught her attention and motioned her over to them. When he glanced across the table, not only was Roshil glaring at Ekla, but so was Sirshi.

“Apprentice Kurgm.” Ekla stopped next to them. “What’s so important it can’t wait?”

“I’d like the day off, please.”

“You’re her apprentice?” Sirshi said.

Ekla closed her eyes for a moment.

“Apprentice Sirshi.”

“Master Ekla,” Sirshi said through gritted teeth.

“You know each other?” Kurgm asked.

“You could say that,” Sirshi said.

Ekla closed her eyes, the look of exasperation she usually reserved for Roshil on her face, who she had avoided looking at, likely to avoid the headache she’d get by seeing Roshil with her head on the table.

“Apprentice Sirshi and I are sisters.”

“Half sisters,” Sirshi said.

“Does she stalk you too?” Roshil asked.

“Apprentice Roshil,” Ekla said. She opened her mouth, then closed it and turned her attention back to Kurgm. “Apprentice Kurgm, why do you want the day off?”

“I want to march with the protesters,” he said.

“To show solidarity,” Aonva added.

“Are you sure? Even after everything they said yesterday?”

“They’re just afraid.” His eyes involuntarily darted to Roshil. “We shouldn’t fault them for what they say when afraid.”

Ekla considered that for a moment. He knew she’d figure out he’d been talking to Lord Velal. His Lord True Knight had a way of talking that seemed unique to himself.

“Only today,” she said. “If there’s trouble, get out immediately. If it looks like things are going to turn violent, get out immediately. The knights on patrol should know who you are, so find one of them if any of that happens.”

“Thank you.”

“There are other ways you can help. You don’t have to do this.”

“I think… I think it’s what my parents would’ve done.”

Ekla let out a breath that almost could’ve been a sigh.

“You might be right about that.” Her gaze flickered to the others, then she turned and left.

“I’m sorry,” Aonva said in her soft voice.

“About what? Everything’s working out.”

“You said ‘would’ve’. When you told me your parents weren’t around, I assumed they were off somewhere, but…”

“What’s going on?” Roshil picked up her head. “Is Master Ekla gone?”

“My parents are dead,” Kurgm said.

“I’m sorry,” Aonva said.

“It’s… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then don’t,” Roshil said. “That’s what I do.”

Kurgm frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“That’s because I don’t talk about it.”

“My parents are both fine,” Sirshi said. “Can we talk about something else? Or better yet, everyone leave?”

Kurgm turned to Aonva and smiled. “Thank you.”

She found something interesting on the table and mumbled “You’re welcome.”

Kurgm wasn’t sure if it would work out, but he was determined to try. There was a lot that could go wrong, but he’d learned early on that was how life went.

#VolumeOne #KeepingThePeace

Kurgm walked into the city. Sure enough, the protesters were back, demanding that His Majesty answer for his perceived wrongdoings.

He watched them for a moment. How was he supposed to join in? Did he start marching with them? Should he ask first? Who would he ask? He tried to spot one of the people who’d spoken the day before, but he couldn’t see any of them.

He walked closer, trying not to look like he was walking toward anyone in particular. Someone must know what to do. Maybe if he asked someone.

When he got closer, people noticed him. They moved away from him, as though some spell repelled them.

Not a spell. They’re afraid of me.

“I want to help!” he said.

“Go back to the castle, knight!” someone shouted.

“We have a right to be here!” another one called.

“Leave us alone!”

“No, I don’t—”

People marched past him, shouting at him to leave them alone.

His shoulders slumped. He took a step back. Maybe he couldn’t help after all.

“Why are you sad?”

He looked around, then noticed not an adult, but a child. A boy, maybe a few years younger than himself, stood apart from the mass of people. The boy had skin that could’ve been from Nelaro or Alforn, Kurgm couldn’t tell. But most significantly, the boy had bandages wrapped around his eyes and scars on his face and hands.

“Are you okay?” Kurgm asked.

“I’m wonderful. Thank you for asking.” When the boy smiled, it was soft and kind, like there wasn’t a dark thought in his head. There was something familiar about him, but Kurgm couldn’t put his finger on it. “But you’re sad. Why?”

“I wanted to help. I’m not trying to stop the protests, I’m trying to join in. I agree, what’s happening is wrong, and His Majesty needs to fix it. The castle’s working on it, but until they do, I want to show my support.”

“Then come march with us.” The boy reached out and offered his hand. “Everyone is welcome here.”

A man came up beside the boy. Unlike the boy, Kurgm could tell the man was a native of Alforn. Something about him also struck Kurgm as familiar, but he couldn’t place that either. Maybe he had one of those faces. He was well kept and had a face that said “you can trust me”.

“Oshal, please don’t run off like that.” The man looked at Kurgm. “You were here yesterday, weren’t you? With Master Ekla.” He narrowed his eyes. “Except the glasses are new.”

“You know Master Ekla?”

“I should think so,” he said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, who’d lowered his hand. “She saved our lives not long ago. You must be her apprentice.”

“Apprentice Kurgm.”

“Nice to meet you.” The man grabbed Kurgm’s hand and shook it. “I’m Daylarl, and this is my son, Oshal.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Kurgm nodded respectfully, as Master Ekla had drilled into him to always do when meeting new people.

“All manners, I like it. Definitely her apprentice. I kept expecting her to come over here and give me a lecture about civil unrest or something.”

“But it’s our right to protest,” Oshal said. “People here are scared and angry. Some of them think His Majesty is hoarding food to save himself. Others think he’s behind the attack.”

“His Majesty would never do that!”

Kurgm found himself outraged by the mere thought of it. His Majesty King Fohra was regarded as the wisest king in decades. Kurgm truly believed he’d let himself starve before his people did.

“Settle down,” Daylarl said, glancing at the looks they were getting. “We know better. We’ve seen dragons before, and this was definitely a dragon attack.”

“That’s what happens to people.” Oshal’s mouth drooped a little. Kurgm was surprised how expressive he could be without eyes. “They get scared, and lash out. Don’t blame them for that. We must forgive people for what they say while in the clutches of fear.”

Kurgm smiled, remembering what Lord Velal had said. He was glad someone understood. He hadn’t known what to expect when coming out here, but he was glad he’d run into these two.

“Lord Velal told me that yesterday,” Kurgm said. “Have you met him?”

“It’s a long story, and there isn’t enough time to talk about it now,” Daylarl said. He motioned for them to follow the crowd.

Oshal walked slowly, carefully tapping a stick to find his way. The stick was quiet on the dirt. He moved with the people, never bumping them with the stick, as though he knew exactly where they were.

Kurgm looked from the pleasant smile on Oshal’s face to the grin on Daylarl’s. Something was familiar about them. He’d seen that smile before.

“Are you… are you Roshil’s father?”

“You’ve met Roshil!” Daylarl’s burst of energy nearly made him jump. “That’s wonderful. I was a little worried she wouldn’t make friends in the castle. Last I heard, she’d been assigned a different master, and I thought she might end up jostled from one to the next.”

Kurgm thought of her in the forge. She and Lord Grund were made for each other. They were both no nonsense, even with each other. It drove Master Ekla mad, but it meant her father’s fear would never be realized. She was happy in the castle, and it made Kurgm happy to think that she’d found a place there.

“My sister’s happy.” Oshal’s smile broadened. “That’s wonderful, if that’s true. Is it?”

Kurgm frowned, wondering what had just happened. Oshal said something with such certainty, but asked him if it was true. But he hadn’t said something, he’d said exactly what had been on Kurgm’s mind.

“You’re a weaver!”

“Keep your voice down,” Daylarl said. “Not everyone needs to know that.”

“Our Lady Grand Weaver says I have a gift for it,” Oshal said. “She already has a master picked out for me. Once the cold season ends and the flowers return, I’ll begin my apprenticeship.” He smiled a little wider. “Is my sister okay?”

“Yeah, Our Lord High Artisan took over her apprenticeship. I don’t know why, she won’t say. She doesn’t talk much to me, mostly to Apprentice Aonva, but I’ve never seen them apart outside the forge.”

Oshal smiled at this. Kurgm smiled back, glad he had found someone that accepted his help.

#VolumeOne #KeepingThePeace

After the Sun Welcoming Ceremony, Sirshi followed Master Moudren to the room where they kept the robes. She pulled off her own and put it away, then started back to the main chamber.

“Apprentice Sirshi, a word.”

She turned around and stood at attention.

“Yes, Master Moudren?”

“We’re glad to have you back in the temple,” she said. “With your permission, I’d like to discuss making you a permanent acolyte with Master Daktra.”

“Yes, Master Moudren. This is where I want to be.”

Master Moudren smiled, bearing a striking resemblance to the Goddess Olmgra.

“I’m glad to hear it. May Olmgra bring you a bright future, Apprentice Sirshi.”

“And you as well, Master Moudren,” Sirshi said with a bow.

When she returned to the main chamber, she found Kurgm waiting for her. She’d barely spoken to him in two months, occasionally seeing him and his friends at meals.

“Good morning, Sirshi,” he said with a smile. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, I’m here for another month or so,” she said, choosing not to mention Master Moudren’s offer to stay. “That’s what happens. Priests are rotated around, but I can pick sometimes.”

She walked past him and out into the castle. She noticed two things at once. The first was that he was following her. The second was that someone was waiting for him.

When Sirshi saw Ekla, any good spirits that she might’ve been in vanished. Any hope of the Goddess after the ceremony was replaced with anger.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice down.

“Waiting for my apprentice,” Ekla replied. “Good morning to you too, Apprentice Sirshi.”

How was it that everything Ekla said made her angry? Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut for once and leave Sirshi alone? Sirshi figured she’d spoken first, but Ekla didn’t need to make it worse.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Master Ekla. I’ll try harder to be perfect like you.”

Ekla closed her eyes.

Probably embarrassed to even be around me.

“Do you have to talk like that?” Ekla asked.

“This is the way I talk.”

“That doesn’t mean there can’t be something wrong with it.”

“And you’re always perfect? Talking down to everyone like you’re better than they are? I’d rather talk back to people than down to them!”

“Calm down.”

“Why? Too embarrassed to be around your loudmouthed half-sister?”

Ekla glared at her, and Sirshi knew she was getting somewhere. Good. Now Ekla had an idea of what it was like for Sirshi to spend time with her.

“Yes.”

Something about the look on Ekla’s face made Sirshi think she hadn’t meant to say it, but her anger grew all the same.

“Fine!”

“Sirshi, I—”

Ignoring her half-sister, Sirshi stormed back into the temple, pushing past Kurgm on her way. Every thought in her head dissolved in the scalding heat of her anger. She wanted to calm down, and the only place she could do that was the Meditation Room.

To her luck, it was empty. In all the time she’d spent in the temple, there were few times she’d ever found someone else in it. Any other day, she’d wonder why, but today, such a thought didn’t stand a chance.

Why does she have to be that way? In her head, her own voice was a roaring flame. She didn’t dare scream inside the Meditation Room. She could barely see straight. This was why she avoided Ekla. Why did Kurgm have to latch onto her? She didn’t want friends! She didn’t need friends! Sirshi was fine with just Sirshi. She didn’t need anyone else. Apart from Master Daktra, and maybe Master Moudren, everyone lectured her eventually, claiming superiority over her. She was sick of it. Why couldn’t everyone leave her alone?

Her head whipped around the small room. Her limbs shook. She held her head in her hands to try to stay calm, but she was losing the fight for control.

Sirshi knelt in front of the Calming Basin. She thrust her hands inside. They hit the edge of the basin. It overbalanced and flew into the air. Through the storm of rage, Sirshi saw it strike the statue’s hand. She heard a crack.

The statue’s hand fell to the floor and landed with a thump.

The haze fell away and shock replaced it. She couldn’t believe what she’d done. Why did this always happen to her? Ekla made her angry, she lashed out, then she got in trouble. Little Miss Perfect got away with it every time. Their parents had never once punished Ekla.

It’s fine, she thought as she picked up the basin and returned it to its place. Water was everywhere. She grabbed a towel and dried herself off. I’ll find Roshil. She’s an artisan, she can fix it. I’ll go to the forge, get her to come here, she’ll fix it, and nobody will know.

It was never that simple. Sirshi was reminded of this when she turned around and found Master Daktra standing in the doorway.

“I can explain,” Sirshi said. “I was—”

“Go to the forge and fetch Our Lord High Artisan,” Master Daktra said. He made little effort to hide his disappointment. “After he’s fixed this, we’ll talk about your assignment to this temple.”

Sirshi couldn’t move. She struggled to breathe. What did that mean?

“Master Moudren said she wanted to keep you here. That she’d selected you as an acolyte for the Flower Blooming Ceremony next month. But now I don’t expect she’ll stay with that decision. She may not stay with either one.”

Sirshi’s world began to crumble. The Flower Blooming Ceremony was only held once a year to usher in the warm season. Being an acolyte at the temple, the acolyte for the Flower Blooming Ceremony, were the two things she wanted more than anything. And she’d almost had them. Almost.

But that didn’t happen. Not to her. Sirshi never got anything she wanted unless she took it for herself.

Sirshi left the Meditation Room. She didn’t look Master Daktra in the eye as she passed. She couldn’t. This was the way things went for her. There was no use assuming anyone stood up for you, that’s what she’d learned. No one was on her side.

#VolumeOne #ManagingAnger

Sirshi’s head was in a whirl as she made her way to the forge. She could almost hear Ekla chewing her out.

This is what happens when you aren’t responsible. If you were more like me, you’d be better.

“Shut up,” Sirshi growled. “Shut up and leave me alone.”

She didn’t want to think about what might happen after the statue was fixed. It was all Ekla’s fault! Why couldn’t she leave her alone? Sirshi didn’t want anything to do with her. If Ekla had let her be, none of this would be happening.

There were only a few people in the forge, considering how early it was. Sirshi looked around, but couldn’t see Lord Grund.

Instead, a woman walked up to her.

“Can I help you?” she asked in a tone that suggested that she wanted the answer to be “No”.

“I’m looking for Our Lord High Artisan,” Sirshi replied, keeping her anger out of her voice. “Is he here?”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can help. And you’ll stand at attention when addressing a master.”

Sirshi didn’t know where she found the restraint not to punch the woman in her stupid face. She’d already had enough of this from Ekla.

“Sirshi?”

Looking past the annoying woman, Sirshi spotted Roshil at one of the furnaces. Roshil gently laid down her work on the anvil in front of her and ran over to them.

“This doesn’t concern you, you little monster,” the woman spat.

Sirshi decided that if there was a person this woman hated more than her, it was Roshil.

“You’re not my master anymore,” Roshil replied. She smiled at Sirshi. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for Our Lord High Artisan. The Temple of the Rising Sun requires his services.”

Roshil’s face lit up. “Those statues are so pretty! Do you know how hard it is to carve those? It must’ve taken them months!”

The more Roshil talked, the worse Sirshi felt, and the angrier she got at her sister.

The other woman opened her mouth, but was cut off by a voice that resonated throughout the forge.

“What do you want?” Lord Grund bellowed.

Roshil and Sirshi both stood at attention when he approached. The other woman did not.

“Master Udra, get back to work.”

She stood at attention when she spoke. “Yes, My Lord.”

“And within this castle, when an officer approaches you, you will stand to attention. Is that clear?”

Udra nodded. “Yes, My Lord.”

She turned and walked back to the furnace at which she’d been working.

“She was a good apprentice,” Lord Grund muttered. He turned his attention to Sirshi. “Temple need something?”

“One of the statues needs to be repaired,” Sirshi said, lowering her voice.

He nodded in a way that told her he understood exactly what had happened. Had other apprentices broken the statues?

Take that, Ekla! It’s not just me, so get off my back!

She also wondered how he knew she was from one of the temples, but chose not to ask.

He turned around and motioned for her and Roshil to follow.

“Not a problem,” he said. “I’ve fixed those statues loads of times. Easiest thing in the world if you know what you’re doing.”

“Why am I coming?” Roshil asked.

“I’m teaching you. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, isn’t it?”

Roshil exchanged glances with Sirshi, then shrugged. Master Daktra wasn’t always the most hands-on master, but Sirshi liked it better that way. Better a hands-off master than to have someone standing over her every moment.

The three of them went to another section of the forge. This one had bins all across the wall, each one with a label. Lord Grund pointed to bins as Sirshi explained the damage. He asked her a few questions she couldn’t quite answer, but he seemed satisfied with the information she had. As he pointed to each bin, Roshil moved a ladder into place and took something out of the container.

After she’d packed everything into her bag, the three of them set off to the temple.

“Has this happened before?” Sirshi asked as they walked.

“It’s not usually the Temple of the Rising Sun, but people break statues all the time. The Temple of No Cares started making their statues out of cheaper materials after I refused to fix them anymore. As his temple’s name suggests, I don’t think Normtoch cares.”

“But you can fix it?”

“Of course, we can. Wouldn’t be with you if we couldn’t. It’s just the hand, so it’s not that hard to reattach. You didn’t shatter the whole thing. It’s hardly serious. And it’s good practice for Apprentice Roshil here.”

When they reached the temple, they went straight through to the meditation room. Master Daktra was still there. He unlocked the doors for them and let them inside. Sirshi noticed that Master Daktra avoided eye contact with Roshil.

Does everyone do that?

Sirshi looked at the statue with guilt, but it was soon replaced by anger. If Ekla hadn’t been there, none of this would’ve happened. Or if Kurgm hadn’t stayed behind to talk to her. She’d be eating breakfast right now, still excited about being chosen for the Flower Blooming Ceremony. Not that her parents would care. She’d known that when she’d chosen to be a priest, that they’d never be proud of her. No one was. Now not even Master Daktra was. What about Master Moudren? What would she say? She must know by now.

Lord Grund and Roshil inspected the statue. He kept asking Roshil questions, most of which she knew. It made Sirshi realize that he must really trust her. Or was this nothing more than another job to him? Maybe Roshil hadn’t made the mistakes Sirshi had made today.

Roshil took some of the items she’d collected out of her bag. One of them was a card she put on the stump on the statue. After muttering a few words Sirshi couldn’t understand, the card melted into the stump. Lord Grund handed her the broken hand, which Roshil took with great care. She rotated it to the right position, then placed it back on the stump. She muttered a few more words. When she finished, she took her hand away.

The statue looked like it did that morning. There were no cracks, no chips missing, no evidence that anything had happened to it.

“See?” Lord Grund said. “Good as new.”

Master Daktra bowed, and Sirshi followed suit.

“I am grateful, My Lord,” Master Daktra said.

“Don’t mention it. Apprentice Roshil did most of the work. It’s her you should be thanking.”

Daktra’s eyes darted to Roshil. “Yes… I suppose so. Thank you… Apprentice Roshil.”

Sirshi scowled at her master. Why was Master Daktra treating Roshil like that? Roshil radiated a feeling of discomfort, but Sirshi had always assumed the masters ignored it.

“Apprentice Sirshi.” Master Daktra turned to her. “Take today and tomorrow off while we decide what happens next.”

“It’s not like she’s the first one to break this statue,” Lord Grund said as he left with Roshil.

Sirshi bowed to Master Daktra, then to the statue of Olmgra, then left the chamber. She followed Lord Grund and Roshil out of the temple.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lord Grund said. “You’ll be back there in a few days.”

Roshil smiled and nodded at Sirshi.

“Oh! Me, Aonva, and Kurgm are going into the city tomorrow,” she said. “You should come too, since you’ve got the day off too.”

Before Roshil had said anything, Sirshi had been planning to avoid people tomorrow. Maybe it would be better to be away from the castle. Knowing what she did about Roshil, she’d find some way to distract her. The girl certainly wasn’t boring.

“I guess.”

“Great! We’ll all eat breakfast and leave after that! See you then!”

Roshil waved to her as she and Lord Grund headed back to the forge. Sirshi wasn’t sure what she wanted just then, but some time alone felt nice. Besides, she’d be getting her fill of people time tomorrow. With that, she headed to breakfast, hoping tomorrow would be a brighter day than this one had been.

#VolumeOne #ManagingAnger

The next day, Sirshi skipped the Sun Welcoming Ceremony. Olmgra wouldn’t want her there anyway. She met Kurgm, Aonva, and Roshil at breakfast, where she said very little.

“Glad you could make it,” Kurgm said.

She nodded, paying more attention to her food than to them. After they’d finished, they made their way to the castle gates.

Sirshi looked around for signs of Ekla. She was not in the mood to see her today.

“We aren’t being followed today,” Roshil said. “I checked.”

In spite of everything, Sirshi managed a small laugh. She decided Roshil wasn’t bad, despite the uneasy feeling Sirshi got from looking at her.

They left the castle. Kurgm nodded to the guards as they passed. Each of them presented the baubles that marked them as apprentices as they passed.

Sirshi didn’t remember the last time she’d been to the city. She actively avoided any chances of running into her parents, so she had never made a habit of leaving the castle. Besides, what was the point? Everything she wanted was in the castle.

“How’ve you been?” Kurgm asked her.

“Fine,” Sirshi replied. She didn’t want to explain any of what had happened with the statue, assuming Roshil hadn’t told them already.

“The forge is nice,” Roshil said, taking attention away from Sirshi (for which she was grateful). “Unless people shove your projects into a furnace.” Growling, she added, “Shove her into a furnace.”

“What happened?” Aonva asked.

“Udra happened,” Roshil growled.

“That woman in the forge yesterday?” Sirshi asked.

“Yeah. While I was gone, my work that I had secured, like I’m supposed to, ended up in the furnace.”

“Why were you in the forge, Sirshi?” Kurgm asked. He wasn’t accusing her, he wasn’t suspicious, he sounded interested. Since when were people interested in her?

“The temple wanted some statues polished,” Roshil said. “Something about a ceremony next month.”

Roshil had lied to her friends. Did she do that for Sirshi? Why? She didn’t want anyone to know about the statue, but she hadn’t expected Roshil to lie for her.

“That’s the Flower Blooming Ceremony,” Kurgm said. “It’s always amazing.”

“I’ve read about it,” Aonva said, “but I’ve never been to one. What’s it like?”

“Everything’s decorated in bright colors,” Kurgm said. “We greet the sky, and welcome back the flowers. There are flowers and plants all over the temple. Then we go outside and plant flowers in the temple garden, and all speak about that for which we’re hopeful this season.”

While he was talking, Roshil dropped back and whispered to Sirshi.

“Master Grund told me you’d appreciate it if I didn’t tell anyone. Our official story is that we were polishing the statues.”

Sirshi smiled at her. She decided then that maybe she and Roshil could be friends.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A silly grin came over Roshil’s face.

They walked around the city, treading over the dirt roads. They stopped at a few shops, but couldn’t buy anything. They each had a small amount of spending money, which they had to save for lunch.

Shortly after they’d finished eating, Sirshi spotted a boy walking around with a cane. He had bandages wrapped around his eyes, and looked like he must’ve come from Alforn. But that in itself wasn’t as significant as Roshil’s reaction when she spotted him.

“Oshal!” Roshil sprinted off toward the boy, leaving the rest of them behind. The boy had just enough time to turn around and smile before Roshil tried to knock him off his feet with a hug.

“I’ve missed you so much!” She wrapped her arms around him, apparently attempting to squeeze the life out of him.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said.

Aonva and Kurgm caught up with the two of them, while Sirshi lagged behind. She didn’t know what was going on, but she wasn’t sure she cared. She’d had her fill of people time already. Roshil had friends outside the castle, big deal. Lots of apprentices did. Although if she and Roshil were supposed to be friends, should she care?

“I’m Apprentice Aonva. You must be Oshal. I’ve heard a lot about you. Good things, of course! But not too much, not like your sister talks about you all the time or anything like that.”

Did she say “sister”? Was this boy Roshil’s brother? Siblings didn’t get along that well, did they?

“Where’s father?” Roshil asked, looking around the marketplace.

Oshal raised his head, then pointed behind them. The four of them turned and saw a man coming out of one of the shops. Sirshi couldn’t figure out how he’d done that. There was no way the boy could see through the bandages. The way he never turned his head, he must’ve been blind. Was it some sort of spell that let him know where his father was? Was he a weaver?

“Hello again, Apprentice Kurgm,” Oshal said. “You’ve been feeling better.”

“I have, thank you. How about you?”

“I’m wonderful. Thank you for asking.”

Oshal turned his head to her, and furled his brow. Before he could say anything, another voice interrupted.

“There’s my girl!” The man ran over to them and swept up Roshil in a hug. Sirshi’s father had never been that happy to see her in her life.

He looked at each of them.

“Apprentice Kurgm, good to see you again.” He took Kurgm’s hand and shook it. “And who’s this young lady?”

“Apprentice Aonva.” Aonva bowed politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He shook her hand next. “Apprentice Kurgm said ‘inseparable’, I think. I’m glad she’s made friends.”

Aonva turned her gaze to the ground as the man turned his to Sirshi. “Last but not least?”

“Apprentice Sirshi.” She hesitated, then remembered she needed to bow. “Nice to meet you.”

He grinned at her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Daylarl, Roshil’s father.”

Roshil started talking to Oshal so fast that Sirshi wasn’t sure she could keep up. When she dragged Aonva into it, Daylarl chuckled.

“Are you Master Ekla’s sister?” Daylarl asked, turning to Sirshi.

“Half-sister.”

Daylarl nodded as if he understood. He couldn’t possibly understand what it was like.

“It’s not easy having someone like that for an older sister, is it?”

It wasn’t only his face that said he understood, but his voice. How was he doing that? Did he really understand?

He nodded to Roshil and Oshal, still chatting away with Aonva. “Oshal was born early. Roshil wasn’t a year old, but she knew he was sick. She was always by his side, even growing up. But Roshil doesn’t make friends easily. Even before… well, the other children didn’t like her. But they liked Oshal. He could be friends with anyone.”

Sirshi figured there was a point to this, but Daylarl was taking his time getting to it.

“Even then, she didn’t stop looking after him. He knows that’s what she does, because he can sense it. It’s not always obvious to everyone else, though.” He turned his gaze to Sirshi. “Ekla can be a bit much, but I know she loves you too.”

“She doesn’t care,” Sirshi snapped. “Everyone loves her because she’s so perfect. All she does is lecture me. I suppose I should be grateful she pays attention at all.”

Anger rose inside her again. She could see the statue in the Meditation Room, its hand on the floor. With all the focus she had left, Sirshi willed herself not to be angry again.

“What’s your apprenticeship?”

“Priest.”

“Oh, what temple?”

“I’ve finished my first round of rotation. I’ve been offered a place at the Temple of the Rising Sun.”

A grin spread over Daylarl’s face. “The Goddess Olmgra. Deity of hope and light.” He winked at her. “Good choice.”

His words caught her off guard. No one had ever taken an interest in her like that. No one had told her she’d made a good decision… ever.

“Thanks.”

“She’s good at it, too,” Kurgm added.

“I’m just carrying things now. Doing chores, helping with the ceremonies. The Flower Blooming Ceremony is soon, and I was chosen to assist.”

Sort of.

“Congratulations,” Daylarl said with a smile. “They have a lot of ceremonies, don’t they?”

“It’s to celebrate the end of the cold season, the hardest time of the year. Then to welcome the new warm season, when the flowers return, and the light of the world with it. There are also celebrations of the end of hard times. Olmgra teaches us to take joy in even the smallest victories so that we don’t take them for granted.”

Make today a bright day.

She looked at both of them and saw interest on their faces. They cared? Since when did people care what she said? Or were they just pretending so they could make fun of her?

“Her temple here is beautiful,” Daylarl said. “Not as flashy as Rendlok’s, but he’s the god of architecture, so you know they’re just trying to impress him. Sometimes simplicity is its own perfection.”

She nodded, not sure what else to say.

Before she could think of anything, Roshil nearly tackled her father.

“How’ve you been?” they asked each other at the same time.

“Keeping out of trouble,” Daylarl replied. “Those protests a few months ago weren’t as bad as they could’ve been. Especially after His Majesty came out of the castle to talk to everyone. It turned into a big town hall meeting.”

“Everything worked out,” Oshal said. He turned his head to Sirshi. “It usually does in Skwyr.”

Did he know about the statue? Had Roshil told him? No, she wouldn’t have. Would she?

Oshal smiled at her. His smile wasn’t big and goofy like his sister’s, it was soft and kind. She knew then that he wouldn’t judge her, not for the statue, not for anything.

“Thanks,” she said, still not sure what to make of him. No one had ever been so nice to her as they were all being.

“Master Grund’s great!” Roshil exclaimed, breaking the silence. “I’ve been learning a lot, and he made me this!” She held up her wrist. There was a small disc attached to it, with an insignia of a flower engraved on it.

“And you’ve made friends,” Daylarl said, grinning back at his daughter. “Which is important to parents, you know.”

What parents? Not my parents.

She exchanged glances with Kurgm. Maybe Aonva had nice parents. She glanced at the girl, but Aonva was looking around the street. Sirshi wasn’t sure if she’d heard Aonva speak at all that day.

At least Roshil and Oshal had a nice father. Looking at the three of them, they were so happy. And as the day went on, they all smiled and laughed with her, Aonva, and Kurgm. Sirshi felt for a little while that being friends with Roshil had somehow made her part of their family.

For the first time since she’d broken she statue, Sirshi began to feel happy.

All will be well.

It was one of the first mantras she’d learned at the Temple of the Rising Sun. As they all bid farewell to Daylarl and Oshal, Sirshi believed it.

#VolumeOne #ManagingAnger

The next day, Sirshi returned to the Temple of the Rising Sun. She didn’t know when to arrive, so she got there before the sun was up. She was tired and wished she could’ve gotten something to eat before arriving. She walked through the main chamber and into Master Moudren’s chambers.

“Good morning, Apprentice Sirshi.”

Master Moudren, seated at her desk, greeted her with a smile. Master Daktra looked as thrilled to be there as Sirshi was. He stood off to the side, arms folded.

Sirshi stood at attention. It made her nervous to think that they appeared to have been waiting for her.

“We’re glad you arrived early,” Moudren said. Her voice was calm and cheerful, no different than any other time of day. How could she be happy all the time? “I wanted you to tell me what happened two days ago.”

Sirshi frowned at Daktra. Hadn’t he already told Master Moudren?

“I… I got angry, and I broke the statue in the Meditation Room.” She bowed her head. “I’m very sorry. I can understand if you don’t want me to be in the temple anymore.”

“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Master Moudren said. “One mustn’t punish the sun for setting early because it’s cold outside. What made you so upset?”

“My half-sister, Master Ekla.”

“Is she likely to do so again?”

Sirshi wanted to say no, but she knew that was a lie. Being around Ekla, hearing her voice, seeing that condescending look she always had drove her mad.

“It’s hard to be around her without getting angry. And I think I’m friends with her apprentice.”

“You don’t know if he’s her apprentice,” Master Daktra said, “or you don’t know if you’re friends?”

“I’ve… never really had friends before. But Roshil’s a lot like me, and she spends time with Kurgm and Aonva, so… I guess?”

“It would be a problem if this happened again,” Master Moudren said. “But avoiding your sister would be unrealistic.”

I’ve been doing it for almost a year and a half. But things are different now.

Despite everything, the thought of Roshil made her smile. Just someone else that didn’t seem to fit in or had a “bad attitude”.

“I’d like to work with you on managing this,” Master Moudren said. “If you can stay calm enough around your sister, then I believe our problem will be solved. We will still have to discuss the Flower Blooming Ceremony, but I’ll leave the position open.”

Sirshi opened her mouth to correct her to “half-sister”, but closed it, realizing she was being given a second chance. Arguing with Master Moudren would do her no good.

“Thank you, Master Moudren.”

“Think nothing of it. Just because the sun burns hot, doesn’t mean it can’t also burn bright. This will mean I will take over your apprenticeship from Master Daktra. Is that acceptable?”

Sirshi exchanged glances with Master Daktra. They had both known this was likely to happen. Master Daktra wasn’t a priest of Olmgra, which is what Sirshi had always wanted to be. Once her rotation ended, they’d be separated.

Daktra nodded at her.

“That’s fine,” Sirshi said, returning her focus to Master Moudren.

The way Master Moudren smiled at her made her feel that she’d made the right decision. She’d always liked Master Moudren. She was never upset at her or disappointed in her.

“That will be all. Please get something to eat before this morning’s ceremony.”

When Sirshi walked into the main chamber, people were already arriving for the Sun Welcoming Ceremony. That meant she didn’t have a lot of time to get something to eat before starting. She made her way to the castle exit, when someone called her name.

“Good to see you back, Apprentice Sirshi,” a woman Sirshi didn’t know said. Sirshi was sure the woman had been there before. She must’ve been almost as old as Lady Emgard. “Master Moudren said you were sick. Poor dear. Are you feeling better?”

“Much better,” she said, with a slight bow of courtesy to hide her impatience. “Thank you. May Olmgra smile upon you.”

“Thank you so much, dear. You too.”

Sirshi made her way out into the castle, where she found someone else waiting for her.

“Good morning.” Roshil held out a pouch of granola. “Master Grund said you’d be hungry.”

“How… why?”

“I think he knows everything.” Roshil glanced around as though someone were watching. She lowered her voice. “I think he can hear everything in the castle.”

Even if that were true, which Sirshi was sure it wasn’t, why would he spend time looking after Sirshi? Did Master Moudren send word to him to send Roshil? Why them?

“Master Moudren probably told him,” Sirshi said, taking the bag and putting a piece in her mouth. It was dry, and tasted only faintly of fruit, but it was food, and Sirshi couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hungry.

“Yeah,” Roshil scoffed. “That’s just as exciting.”

Sirshi swallowed the dry food. “Did you bring something to drink?”

Roshil handed her a pouch of water, which she gladly excepted.

“Did they kick you out?” Roshil asked.

“What? No, of course not. I mean… I thought they were going to, but Master Moudren said I have to work on managing my anger with her from now on.”

“That’s nothing. People are always telling me I have to manage my anger. ‘Roshil, it’s not polite to growl at people.’ ‘Roshil, we don’t shove people into furnaces.’ ‘I don’t care what your father said, breaking and entering is against the rules.’”

Sirshi stared at her. The idea that this was how Ekla felt talking to her flickered into her mind for the briefest moment. It was replaced by the memory of talking to Daylarl. Nothing about him had made him seem like the kind of person that would approve of breaking and entering. Maybe that was the point.

“That’s good that you’re still here,” Roshil said, ignoring Sirshi’s stare. “What about your flower thing?”

“The Flower Blooming Ceremony? Master Moudren said she’d have to think about it. Only if she feels that I’m ready for it.” She took another drink of water. “Your father seemed nice.”

“He is!” Roshil jumped as she spoke. “We moved here over five years ago, but he made friends right away. He and Oshal are good at that. Especially since…” She ruffled her hair, and her enthusiasm drained away. “I’m here.”

“I’ve been wondering… why is your hair like that? And… your eyes.” Sirshi glanced at Roshil’s eyes, but had to look away. There was something unnatural about them, something Sirshi couldn’t place. Looking at them felt… wrong. A slow, creeping feeling in the back of her mind that said nothing was ever supposed to look like that.

“I was cursed,” Roshil said. “And… I don’t like talking about it.”

Sirshi still had a lot of questions. Who or what cursed her? When had it happened? Roshil must’ve talked to Lord Grund about it, so there was probably nothing the Court could do about it.

She couldn’t imagine being like that. Cursed forever, with no way to reverse it.

Why would Olmgra allow someone to be cursed like that?

Sirshi knew Olmgra, like most deities, didn’t tend to humanity like a shepherd tended her flock. As Master Daktra had taught her, “If they did everything for us, we’d never learn to do it ourselves.” Deities weren’t a crutch, they were a helping, guiding hand. Still, it was hard to hold onto hope knowing something like what happened to Roshil could happen to anyone.

Make today a bright day.

She smiled at Roshil. She didn’t want to pity her; Sirshi hated it when people pitied her. She only wanted to see Roshil smile back. And that she did.

“Make today a bright day,” Sirshi said.

“Like fireworks,” Roshil replied.

Sirshi laughed, then started coughing as she choked on her water.

“Are you okay? Did you stop breathing? That’s important, you shouldn’t do that.”

“I’m fine,” Sirshi said, her voice hoarse. “Really. Just inhaled some water.”

Sirshi cleared her throat a few times after she stopped coughing. She glanced at the temple entrance, then realized that she probably needed to get her robes on before it got any later.

“I’d better go,” she said. She handed the empty pouches to Roshil. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Roshil said in her too-loud voice. “If you’re still hungry after your ceremony thing, you can eat breakfast with us.”

“I’d like that,” Sirshi said.

Roshil grinned, then turned and left.

Sirshi watched her go, then turned back to the temple. She decided that if Roshil could keep smiling, she would too. She would make today a bright day.

#VolumeOne #ManagingAnger

Oshal stood outside the entrance to the apprentices’ rooms. He tapped his walking stick while he waited for his sister and her friends to arrive. Getting a little impatient, he followed her thread and checked on her.

“She’s awake,” he said to the empty corridor. “That’s a good sign.”

The thought of being in the castle with his sister still filled him with excitement. It helped to distract him from worrying about their father. Was he alright on his own? Was he worried about them? He’d been worried about Roshil for the past seven months. As Oshal’s thirteenth birthday had approached, Oshal felt his father’s worry growing. He’d sensed it many times before, but for almost six years, their mother hadn’t been there to quell it.

Oshal turned his thoughts to his sister’s friends. As he did, one of the doors to their rooms opened.

It’s a magic door, so you can’t leave your room without the bauble.

Oshal felt the small orb in a pouch on his belt. He’d learned quickly to keep things in the same place so he’d be able to find them again.

“Good morning, Oshal.”

A wave of anxiety and fear hit him as Aonva walked out. Her mind was a constant storm, a torrent of emotion and a gale of anxiety threatening to toss her aside. She seemed calm enough on the outside, so Oshal never mentioned it to her.

“Good morning, Aonva. How did you sleep?”

“Alright. Are you still planning to go to the Flower Blooming Ceremony?”

“I am.” He followed the threads connecting him to Sirshi and Kurgm. “Sirshi and Kurgm are already there.”

“Good.” A brief flicker of sun broke the storm, but it was swallowed soon after.

“Roshil will be down shortly,” he said. “She’s always been a little slow to rise.”

“I’m usually the one waiting for her here. She always makes it, but it’d be nice if she could move a little faster. I keep worrying we’re going to be late for breakfast, but today I keep reminding myself that it is early, and the ceremony will be before breakfast. Well, not exactly before, but there will be time for breakfast later, unless Master Kaernin needs something from me earlier, but I don’t think he would, he knows I’m going to the ceremony, and he never forgets anything, at least he’s never forgotten anything I’ve told him, but he hardly speaks, so how would I know if he did, but I…”

Aonva stopped talking and took a breath. The storm had developed into a hurricane, tossing her about like a rag doll thrown by an angry child.

“Master Kaernin will look out for you,” Oshal said before she could start talking again. “No need to worry.”

“Of course not. You’re right. Thank you.”

The storm quieted down, and Oshal knew he’d said the right thing. Despite what his sister seemed to think, he didn’t always, so it was nice when he did.

“You’re welcome.”

He smiled at her, but it didn’t help her as much as it did Roshil or their father. Oshal checked on Roshil again, just in time to find her leaving her room.

“Good morning, Roshil.”

Roshil’s excitement went off like a volcano, hurtling her toward him. She stopped herself before she knocked him over, but her hugs could still feel like a snake trying to crush him.

“Good morning!” she said before letting him go. “Is this everyone? Are the others already there? Good morning, Aonva!”

“Morning,” Aonva said in a quiet voice. She was still afraid, but the storm had died down completely, leaving only dark clouds in its wake. It was still in contrast to the explosion of bright excitement from his sister.

“We’re the last ones,” Oshal said.

Oshal smiled at how happy his sister was. She’d been like that ever since he’d arrived the previous day, a stark contrast to the attitude to which he’d grown accustomed. Normally his sister was miserable, dark, dreary, and angry. But here in the castle, she was happy, and he was happy she was happy. It was all he’d ever wanted.

The three of them set off toward the Temple of the Rising Sun. Aonva led the way, with Roshil walking slower to stay with Oshal.

“I’m fine, really,” Oshal said. “I can follow you two.”

“Do you start with Our Lady Grand Weaver today?” Aonva asked.

“I do. It’s strange calling her Master Durwey now. She’s nice, I think. It’s hard to tell. She says I’ll learn how to conceal my emotions from other weavers like she does.”

According to Master Durwey, that day’s lesson would be learning to tune out other peoples’ emotions, which was fine with Oshal. She’d told him other weavers had to learn to listen to the threads; he’d always been able to hear them too well, a fact of which he was reminded when they reached the temple.

The moment they stepped through the door, the usual tingling feeling was accompanied by a wave of emotion. Joy, fear, hope, love, even a little anger met him like a swirl of hundreds of paints on fire. He stepped back, recoiling from the sudden onslaught of emotion.

“It’s okay,” Roshil whispered. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want.”

“I’m fine.” Oshal smiled as he adjusted to the sudden input. “It caught me off guard, that’s all.”

As they walked inside, not only did the noise fade, but the emotion changed. Whispers broke out around them, and any positive emotions were replaced with anger, discomfort, and fear. Oshal frowned as he felt it.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

“Why’s everyone staring at us?” Aonva asked.

Oshal sensed Kurgm in the crowd, one of the few people not upset in some way. He came over to them, just as confused as they were.

“Glad you three could make it,” he said.

“Where’s Sirshi?” Roshil asked. Her happiness was replaced with anger and frustration. Oshal sensed her in front of him, keeping herself between him and the other people.

“She’s ready for the ceremony,” Kurgm said. Oshal heard his feet move. In a louder voice, he said, “Is something wrong?”

“What’s she doing here?” one person asked, an older woman by the sound of her voice. If Oshal couldn’t sense her hatred, he could’ve heard it in her voice.

Oshal sensed Sirshi enter the main chamber.

“You made it,” she said. Her happiness didn’t last long, giving way to confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Someone allowed that girl in here,” the woman said. Murmurs of agreement came from the crowd.

“I invited her,” Sirshi said. She moved next to Roshil. “She’s my friend.”

A lump formed in the pit of Oshal’s stomach. They were talking about Roshil. Why were they so angry at her? What had she done?

“I should leave,” Roshil said. All the bright happiness she’d felt dried up and faded away, leaving her empty.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sirshi said. In a louder voice, she added, “You’ve spent the past month cleaning and fixing the statues here.”

Pointing that out didn’t make matters any better. People became concerned instead, and no warmer toward Roshil.

“I’ll go,” Roshil said. “Thanks for inviting me, but… I know when I’m not wanted.”

Oshal felt anger boiling up in Sirshi’s mind. For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d hold her temper, but Roshil acted first.

“I’m not worth getting angry over,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

Roshil turned and started out of the temple. Oshal and Aonva turned and followed her. A few moments after they walked through the door back to the castle, Kurgm walked in behind them.

“Don’t you want to stay?” Aonva asked.

“Not if they’re going to treat my friends that way,” he said. “Sirshi said she’ll talk to Master Moudren so that never happens again.”

“It will,” Roshil said, her voice devoid of emotion. “That’s what people do.”

Oshal was used to Roshil’s pessimism, and like every other time he’d felt it, he hoped she was wrong.

#VolumeOne #TheOnesWeLove

The four of them walked in silence to breakfast. Their collective gloom cast a shadow around them. Oshal couldn’t feel anything else. He forced himself to stay positive, but he didn’t say anything. Knowing Roshil, talking about it would only upset her.

Their silence persisted through breakfast. The din of emotion from the other apprentices and their masters didn’t do much to drown out the sadness his sister felt. She poked and prodded a few pieces of food, but hardly touched any of it.

What saddened Oshal most was the thought of how happy she’d been when he’d arrived the previous day. Her cheerful demeanor had stuck with her, and he’d thought for a moment that she’d be happy in the castle. But she wasn’t happy anymore. It wasn’t unlike their first few days in the court. People stared at them, often uncomfortable around them. Their father insisted it was because they were new, but Roshil had insisted on staying inside after that. She’d always been treated differently, and had decided it was best to avoid people.

As breakfast ended, Master Durwey fetched Oshal. Like the previous day, he couldn’t feel much from her, but for a brief moment, he felt a flicker of discomfort from her, the same as he’d felt from everyone around them. He ignored it and bid farewell to his friends. Kurgm wished him well on his first day as an apprentice, Aonva softly corrected that to first full day, but his sister said nothing. While Oshal wanted to stay with her, he knew he’d have to go. Hopefully she’d be feeling better at dinner.

Master Durwey led him out of the great hall. As they moved away from it, the emotions of the other people in the castle faded away.

“Most of your time will be spent with me,” she said. “There are classes: history and social structure, both of Skwyr and the other kingdoms; science and mathematics; language studies, including Arcane. As a weaver, it won’t be as important to learn magic, but you’ll need to know a basic message spell, so you will need to learn Arcane. Special accommodations will be made, of course, given your condition.”

“It’s the same teachers I’ve had, isn’t it?” Oshal asked.

“Yes, of course. They’ll be familiar with you by now.”

Oshal couldn’t sense how Master Durwey felt, but he was familiar enough with how people reacted when they first met him. They were always flustered and uncertain around him. Most people were curious about him, since the bandages around what used to be his eyes were a giveaway that something had happened to him.

As they walked, Master Durwey would point out places, only to remember that Oshal couldn’t see. Despite her apologies, Oshal wasn’t bothered by it. He missed being able to see sometimes, but more often than that he wished people would stop treating him differently.

“You will have someone to escort you around the castle,” she said after the fourth time she apologized for pointing to something he couldn’t see.

“I can find my classes from the teachers, but my sister would be happy to walk with me if she needed to.”

“Your sister is not responsible for you here.” While he didn’t sense it from her, he heard anger in her voice. “I am. Unless you have class, I will be walking with you wherever we need to go.”

“But—”

“That’s the end of it.”

Oshal had intended to say that he didn’t need anyone to walk with him. He didn’t know when Roshil would need to walk with him at all. But Master Durwey continued on.

“It’s clear by your abilities that you don’t need to learn to sense others’ emotions, but instead that you need to learn to control it.”

“Crowds are difficult.”

“They can be at first. After we teach you control, you’ll need to learn to mask yourself from other weavers. You can already follow threads to other people, so we’ll also work on sending emotions along the threads.”

Oshal had learned about many of the abilities of a weaver after his parents had found out how easily he could sense emotions. After his mother had explained it to him, his first question had been about Roshil. She’d always been so lonely, he wanted to know if he could make her feel happy.

“You have to be responsible,” his mother had said. “Don’t assume that you know better than anyone else what’s best for them.”

They walked through the castle until they came to a stop. Oshal didn’t sense anyone around them, so they weren’t at another room. He waited for Master Durwey to tell him where they were, rather than waste time asking.

“Today we’ll start by isolating you from people,” Master Durwey said. “We’re going to go out into the forest and sit alone for a time. This should give you a break from the noise.”

Oshal nodded. He used to think that one day he would grow used to the constant noise, but he never did. The feelings of others always swirled around him. He always knew how his father and sister were feeling. At least, he had, until Roshil had gone to the castle. It’d been a long seven months without her, but he was with her now, so she’d be okay. They both would.

He followed Master Durwey. A tingle spread through his body, causing him to jump.

“It’s alright. All the doors do that. You’ll have to get used to it. It’s why you never want to lose that bauble I gave you.”

Oshal knew the bauble was in one of the pouches on his belt. Everything was always where it was supposed to be, so he could find it later. He wondered if Roshil had lost hers. She wasn’t always organized, getting too caught up in her latest project to notice when something was wrong. He knew why she was like that; it helped her shut out everything else. He liked her that way, rather than being sad all the time.

The ground underneath his feet turned from stone to dirt. The echoes of voices were replaced by the ruffling of leaves. He didn’t sense anyone else outside with them. The noise of emotion faded away as they walked farther from the castle.

“How’s your head?” Master Durwey asked.

“Much better, thank you.”

“Good. We’ll be walking back and forth a few times. When you’re inside the castle, find this feeling again. It will keep you grounded in yourself. It’s also a good first step toward masking your own emotions from other weavers.”

Oshal nodded while studying how he felt. Calm, peaceful. Nothing else in the world was a problem. He could still sense a few threads, but he knew whose they were. One of them was Roshil’s, another was their father’s. There were a few with which he was becoming more familiar, those of his new friends.

Then there was his thread. The thread Oshal didn’t dare touch. The one he hoped he never had to follow. Despite reassurances that its owner couldn’t track it back to him, it still scared him.

“Are you alright?” Master Durwey asked.

Oshal focused on the other threads, on the calm noises of the outdoors. It was peaceful here, and he loved it.

“Good. I’m glad you’re learning. It won’t be perfect, and it’s always possible to lose control when you feel strong emotions.”

Oshal wondered if that’s what happened whenever Master Durwey was around Roshil. Why did everyone seem to think there was something wrong with his sister?

The wind rustled the trees as they walked into the forest. He heard sounds of animals flitting from tree to tree. There were no threads, and not much in the way of emotions. His mother had told him that animals feel emotions differently than humans do, which is why weaving didn’t work on animals.

Then he sensed something else. Something human. Something human in the trees.

“That’s probably one of the druids,” Master Durwey said. Oshal heard her whisper something. After a pause, she took his arm.

“We’re going back to the castle now,” she said in a low voice. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”

He sensed confusion and fear from the other human, but it quickly changed to anger. It grew into a chorus of screeching and shouting animals, threatened by something new.

Or angry people, threatened by someone different.

He remembered the feeling of so much negativity concentrated toward his sister. He didn’t want anyone to feel like that, nor to feel how his sister had felt.

Oshal gathered his thoughts before the rage could overwhelm him. Everything else dropped away, leaving only he and that thread.

“Don’t be afraid. We’re friendly.”

The anger faded away, leaving curiosity in its wake, like when a dog sniffed his hand.

He smiled.

“My name’s Oshal. What’s yours?”

“Apprentice Oshal, stop. Return to the castle at once.”

Oshal had learned early on that only select pieces of information could be gleamed from the threads. Emotions, a sense of location, but also basic facts about a person, like their name and gender. That’s why he knew the other human was a boy.

And a word came into his head: Nourd.

Nourd stayed in the trees, motionless. Lady Durwey grabbed Oshal’s arm.

“Now.”

Nourd was confused, curious, but more afraid than anything. The moment Lady Durwey began leading Oshal back to the castle, he fled.

As Oshal walked back to the castle, his thoughts stayed on Nourd. He could still sense the thread that led back to him, but he wanted to know more. Had Oshal’s kindness helped? It didn’t always help, but it was nice when it did.

“You are not to go into the forest without a master accompanying you,” Lady Durwey said. “There’s a reason for that. We don’t know who or what that was, apart from human and not from the court.”

“His name is Nourd.”

“I’m glad you’re capable of picking that out of the thread, but you shouldn’t introduce yourself to every passerby. There are dangerous creatures out there.”

“I know.”

Master Durwey stopped walking.

“Of course, you do. That was foolish of me to say.”

As they walked back through the forest, it wasn’t the dragon that came to Oshal’s mind, but the people from the temple. He liked Nourd already, at least enough to want to know more about him. Nourd had listened to Oshal; he’d been curious about him. But the people at the temple had already made up their minds about him and his sister. Why couldn’t people listen?

#VolumeOne #TheOnesWeLove