“Merchant lord then?” Lida asked pointedly.

  “Do you think me to be an Ilerlean?” Sekant responded with an exasperated sigh.

  “Some other type of illicit profession then, a slaver, perhaps?” she continued.

  Sekant merely looked at her with his face contorted into an odd mixture of confusion and the expression not unlike that of a person who had just inhaled the foul stench of rotten eggs. They had been traveling together on the road for three days now, and the questions had come incessantly, aimed at Sekant, as Lida tried to pry more information out of him. At this point, Sekant had become inured to a constant interrogative state, but as their third day came closer to an end, he could not hide annoyance in his face.

  “Perhaps,” Dayanik responded, petting Ket’s neck as she slowly trotted in between them, “that’s enough questions for the day, Lida. It’ll be dark soon; we should find a place to camp.”

  Sekant murmured something unintelligible in agreement and rode off down the road in search of a more suitable camping ground for the night.

  “I don’t trust him,” Lida said.

  “You have made that very clear,” Dayanik responded, laughing.

  “How can you trust him? You know what he did in the tavern. Reya is probably still traumatized from everything that happened.”

  “Reya seemed quite fine by the time we left, and by the sounds of it, he saved her life, even if he only was trying to save his own. And he’s proven to be quite…capable; I’d quite like to have someone capable of watching our backs if we’re heading north instead of taking the Merchant’s Road to the capital.”

  “You almost sound as if you admire the man, Day,” she joked. Dayanik couldn’t help but blush, scarlet coloring his cheeks with embarrassment. “Oh, gods, you do admire the man! But why? He’s done nothing but brood ever since we left.”

  Perhaps that’s more to do with your line of constant questioning, Dayanik thought to himself, but just shrugged his shoulders.

  Lida let out a sigh, as if the whole ordeal had exhausted her in a manner, as well. She perked up, however, as she noticed smoke from a campfire already streaming lazily into the sky; Sekant had found a camping ground for them, not far from the roads, by the direction the smoke was rising from. With a glance, she eyed Dayanik. He was just as scrawny as she remembered him, with a youthful face to match, as if he was made taller but failed to age in any other manner. “How did you manage to fetch a water mink, by the way?”

  Dayanik glanced back at Biriki, the mink’s head laying restfully against his back from his pack. He had nearly forgotten the creature was there, it slept so soundly today. It may have been the warm sunshine that peeked through the clouds that had let him sleep soundly despite the bumpy road. “He…found me, I suppose I would say. Nothing special really,” he shrugged aimlessly, not meaning anything by it.

  She punched his arm all the same. Before he could start, she cut him off, “why would you say that?? You were in the capital, Day! You’ve met lords and ladies, and you’ve climbed towers higher than any mountain. Is it true the Central Tower floats above the clouds?”

  Dayanik laughed, rubbing his arm as he forgot the pain. “C’mon Lida, you can’t possibly believe those stories. Your father just wanted you and Alya to listen to his stories, they’re certainly not true!”

  She pouted, “but there is magic there, isn’t there? That’s supposed to be the heart of the country, where the greatest magic lies. It’s not so far-fetched to think that the greatest magic users in the world could have a floating tower…” she trailed off.

  Dayanik looked at her, sympathetic. He had believed those same stories that his friend’s father had told them as children. Hells, it was partially what drove him to seek out the capital city in the first place, he knew deep down. “I-I’ll be honest, Lida…the capital is just a city. Truly, it was magnificent in some ways. But the flaws of the city are not too unlike the flaws of the village, of home. Some people suffer more than others; some have not suffered a day in their lives. But…I will say that the city gives me hope, even as I return home. I feel as if the things I’ve learned, my studies as I’ve deepened my relationship with Amune, that they bring me the power to help the world. Even just a bit.” He squinted his eyes for a moment, picturing the future.

  Lida eyed him quizzically. “You’re a strange one, Day,” she said. She smiled as she hurried on ahead to the campsite. Ket let out a snort to that and Dayanik relented, gently kicking at her sides to spur him forward to catch up.

  As night fell, the three travelers laid out their blanket to sleep upon. The clear sky of the day had given way to a starry night sky that could be seen even through the sparse tree canopy. Even the emerald moon Annatta’s green radiance could not drown out the stars that shined in the background. The cold had not yet crept in, but Sekant had set up a fire anyways to cook upon, though the size of it meant that the embers would likely keep them warm throughout the night even as it hummed to sleep with them. Even through the smoky air, Dayanik could smell the mossy green trees that they camped within, set up shallowly off the dirt road and in the darkened forest. The glow of the smoldering embers barely penetrated the shadows that hung just under the outstretched limbs of the ancient trees that surrounded them, and darkness enveloped everything beyond the light of their campfire.

  Biriki shot out from his hiding place nestled inside of Dayanik’s bag and quickly shot up to perch himself on Dayanik’s chest, giving Dayanik a blank stare with blinking black eyes.

  “How has this trip been for you, Biriki?” Dayanik asked softly.

  The water mink stared at him with his head slightly cocked to the side. He then proceeded to pick at his underarm fur, primping to neaten the white and misty gray fur. Even Ket had settled into a nice mossy surface to sleep for the evening, the dampening fire radiating just enough warmth to keep her comfortable.

  Dayanik smiled slightly to himself as he silently observed the mink grooming himself, his eyes closing, but he felt wide awake. Truth be told, he hadn’t been able to sleep much since they had set out on their journey to the capital three days earlier. Only days ago, Dayanik had been gripped by insecurity and anxiety over the unknown that seemed to block his future. Ever since he had left the village as a child, leaving behind the only people he could truly call his family, he had felt so sure of his path. Having the next six years pre-ordained gave one a sense of self-assurance or, barring that, certainty in the destination. Now, left to determine his own fate, uncertain of where he would fit best, Dayanik sat at a crossroads, and yet he felt…excitement. Fear had gripped him in recent days, coinciding with his “robing” ceremony and the presentation of a journey unknown.

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  Lida had finally relented as they had settled in for the night from her constant interrogation of Sekant, instead making her way over to Dayanik, slinking through the dimly lit campground as Dayanik grinned again to himself as he found her movements awkwardly amusing. She had scarcely changed from the headstrong and unruly child that he remembered as his closest friend growing up. Though they had been essentially raised together as same-age siblings, Dayanik could never understand where her unrelenting courage and sense of adventure had come from. Dayanik didn’t consider himself to be a coward, after all, it took courage and a sense of moral duty far beyond your years to leave your home at less than eight years old to go off to a far-away capital city to find a purpose in life. Was that truly courage, or simply childish longing? Dayanik had always found Lida to be a shield and a sword in his life. A shield to hide behind when small creek snakes hissed when they explored the grasslands south of the forest on the edge of the Tas Utul mountains. A sword to cut his way through dark forests on their way back home as she strode through the forests without a moment’s hesitation, more afraid of her father’s harsh words for being gone days on end than of the noises that crept around them at night in those forests.

  “How are you faring, Day?” she asked as she settled in beside him sharing the warmth of the blanket beneath them.

  He smiled as he stared at her. He realized he hadn’t properly looked at her since he had returned.

  “What?”

  “You’ve grown so much and yet so little,” he said with a chuckle.

  She threw a hunk of bread at him that she had reserved from their dinner earlier. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He laughed again. “I just think that…it’s still so strange seeing you after all these years. You’ve grown so beautiful, but you still move forward without thinking like we did as kids.”

  She blushed at that.

  “I don’t mean anything by it; it’s just such an interesting thing to see. I figured you would have forgotten me after so long. Or changed, somehow,” he said with a reassuring smile. A crack sounded behind them and Dayanik flailed as he tried to roll over to see what happened, launching Biriki into the air before he landed deftly beside Ket. She nearly shook with fear.

  “You’re the one who hasn’t changed one bit,” she said, adding a smug laugh at the end. “Still scared of every sound that goes bump in the night.”

  He straightened his robes and readjusted himself into a comfortable position again. “Do I truly not seem any different?”

  Lida met his gaze for a few moments, studying just his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what she possibly could tell just from holding his stare. Then, after a few moments, her attention took her back to the brown bread hunk she still held onto, taking another bite. After chewing deliberately and swallowing, without looking, she said “you grew a bit taller,” in a hushed voice.

  Well of course he was taller, he thought to himself, but he figured he wouldn’t push the point any longer. It was true, even whenever he caught his own reflection, that he couldn’t picture his face much differently back when they were children to how he looked now. His green eyes were bright and large, with a childish proportion to them compared to his face, and the lines of his jaw hadn’t sharpened the way he would see in paintings of the heroes of old. The brown hair he had was still shaggy and ruffled, though he had opted after joining the Brotherhood to crop it somewhat shorter than the unruly mess he allowed it to grow to as a boy. He also was a late bloomer when it came to puberty: as other boys proudly displayed stubble or even patchwork beards, Dayanik still found his skin to be smooth and clean. He was grateful, as some boys had delt with the terrors of growing up through foul smelling body odor or acne, which he was bereft of, but he did somewhat wish he could look…older. Even his growth seemed to be disproportionate in one direction, and without too much to brag about. Though he had gotten a few inches taller, he still met Lida’s eyes at the same level just as it had been when they were children, and he could never seem to grow any semblance of musculature. Food provisions for students of the Brotherhood weren’t scarce, but he still seemed unable to fill out his robes and seemed to grow lankier by the day. The fact that he lost most of the sparring bouts he fought in buttressed the notion that he lacked strength, considering he felt as if he trained more than most boys his age.

  The two friends sat in silence for a few moments longer, though they began to grin as Sekant’s snores at the distant end of the camp began to grow louder.

  “One thing is clear, however,” Lida said quietly.

  Dayanik cocked his head slightly, curious.

  “You seem to have found your purpose, Day.” She smiled at him, though in the light of the fire, Dayanik could still see some lingering sadness in her eyes, some sense of betrayal that he had left her behind.

  His eyes closed a bit as he reminisced, shielding him as he stared as the dying flames licked out of the embers. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever actually find one, if I’m being honest.”

  “The church hasn’t been what you wanted?”

  “It was easier, back then. Even when I missed home, missed you all, I knew that the other priests had a plan and purpose for me. It brought me comfort, knowing that I didn’t have to make a choice beyond joining. I’ve never had to do anything on my own without guidance. I can’t be like him,” he added, nodding at Sekant as his snores lessened, “I can’t just go on adventures or make my way fighting through life.”

  “Well…then what will you do? You said you were given a year to decide.”

  Dayanik shook his head as he pondered, staring blankly in the direction of the embers now as he sat up, his hands rested on his knees.

  “Couldn’t you come back to us?” Lida asked, with more longing in her voice than she intended. Dayanik could tell she regretted sounding so desperate. “Maybe you could even find some time to take out Reya on a picnic,” she added hastily.

  “Perhaps, if I’m lucky, I could become a scribe or an attendant for one of the great teachers. There are good men, especially among the Seven Lights. I’m sure they could teach me a great deal.”

  “Aspiring to be an attendant?” a groggy and gruff voice interjected. Sekant had sat himself up, his silvery hair even more unruly than usual. “Surely you can aim higher than that.” He walked himself over to the two, sitting down and stoking the fire. He poured into a bowl a dark but clear liquid, the stars through the canopy reflecting off the pellucid wine.

  Dayanik’s voice cracked as he attempted to deepen it in a stern manner, embarrassed. “What’s wrong with wanting to learn from someone with more wisdom than myself?”

  “If you want to be a librarian or a scholar, I suppose nothing. But is that what you want to do? Simply sit yourself inside of a library for the rest of your life, all because you couldn’t figure out your own thing?”

  Dayanik turned his face away, reddening even without the light of the stoked flames. “Like I said, I can’t just move forward with the same sense of purpose you do.”

  “Moving forward is all any of us can hope to do. Unknown, pitch black, backwards, one must face the future all the same,” Sekant retorted calmly, his eyes not drifting up from his wine.

  “Wise words from an alcoholic,” Lida shot back quickly.

  “Luckily, they’re not mine,” he said as he feigned a toast before taking another pull on his cup. “Truthfully, Dayanik, I know very little about the world. I hope you are never driven forward by the same feelings that push me to keep going. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. But to live your life without the courage to take your own steps would be to ignore your own latent potential.”

  Dayanik perked up a moment, feeling better now that the word “potential” had been mentioned, something he heard little of from his peers and teachers. “What would you suggest I do, then?”

  Sekant shrugged at him, the wine taking hold as his eyes began to close. He slumped back to the ground, too lazy to even return to his blanket and bedroll, though he still held up his wineskin and cup. “Find a path, walk it, no matter how winding or narrow it seems.” His words seemed to carry some weight to them, as if that had been something he had said to himself before. Then, however, his arms slumped to the ground, and he started snoring again.

  Lida smiled looking down, her arms wrapped around her knees. Dayanik looked up at the stars, feeling a bit more encouraged than he had felt earlier; still unsure of the path to take, but a bit more certain that he would find it in time.