Daivad was eight years old the day the Priestess came to the Farm.

The day started like any other—all the children woke with the sun, and Daivad was first to get into his uniform. As usual, he stood at the door of the boys’ bunkhouse and checked the uniforms of everyone as they shuffled sleepily past him. And as usual, he had to send Tobei back twice, once to get Ben to redo the complicated braid Tobei had attempted on himself, and once because on the way from Ben back to the door, Tobei had somehow managed to lose a boot.

And as usual, all this made Daivad the last one to fall into formation. What was not so usual was that the Colonel, standing on the front porch of the farmhouse, shoulders back, feet spread, hands clasped behind his back, regarding the children before him, was not alone. Beside him stood a woman wearing strange, intricately-beaded robes of sky blue that covered her from head to toe. Even a loose veil of beads covered her face, so that all Daivad could see of the woman was a pair of stone-gray eyes.

The Colonel, in his dress uniform of black and silver, all hard edges and a high neck, frowned at Daivad, but that was usual too. The frown was—the dress uniform wasn’t. The Colonel clomped down the porch steps as Daivad fell into formation, and shouted,

“Late, Daivad!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Again.”

“Permission to speak, sir!” called Tobei’s high voice somewhere to Daivad’s left.

Daivad had to resist the urge to turn and tell Tobei to shut up, he was only going to make things worse.

“Denied. You will—”

“But he was helping—!”

“Tobeicus!”

Had anyone else so insolently ignored an order, in front of a guest no less, they would have gotten a week’s worth of cleaning duty at least. Had Daivad done it, he would have gotten two weeks. But it was Tobei, so all he got was a hard glare and the use of a name he hated.

Or perhaps the Colonel was just being generous in the presence of the strangely dressed guest, because the next moment he seemed to have forgotten Daivad’s lateness and instead proceeded to introduce Priestess Auxica Earthbreaker, sister of Queen Arantxa. There was a ripple through the formation of children, even a few gasps and whispers, but Daivad stared straight ahead as the Colonel brought them all back to attention.

He explained that the Priestess wanted to talk to them. Ask a few questions. And that was all he said.

The Priestess’ robes clicked and rustled as she stepped forward to address them. The smile in her warm voice was audible. “Hello. Name me Auxica. I’ll echo the Colonel; I want to talk to all of you, but most, I want to listen.”

And so, she began to move through the formation. The rows were organized by age, so the youngest were to the front, and despite the fact that her robes must be expensive, she knelt before the smallest children to speak with them one by one. First, she asked their names, their ages. But from then on, the questions seemed random. What they did in their free time, did they like to read, what did they dream about, who were their friends, and so on.

Tobei, ever the kiss-ass, bounced every question back at her. He wanted to know who her friends were, what she loved to do. He complimented her robes, proudly offered to recite one of the prayers to the Light Mother, and, when she acquiesced, proceeded to recite the most ridiculous prayer a six-year-old could possibly come up with, including a request that Mother Light bless all the land with enough “breab” (how he pronounced ‘bread’) and “fun games” that everyone stopped fighting just because they were hungry or bored “like Daivad does,” all with the confidence of a hundred-year-old High Priest speaking before his congregation.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Daivad couldn’t help it—he glanced at the Colonel to see the man, eyes closed, shaking his head silently. But Auxica laughed from deep in her belly and told Tobei that was the most beautiful prayer she had heard in years.

When she reached Daivad, he kept his eyes straight ahead until she bent slightly to catch his eye through her beaded veil. She smiled.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Priestess.”

“Name me Auxica, please. Daivad, was it?”

“Yes, Auxica.”

For a moment, her eyes flicked back and forth between his. Then she said, “Do you know the story of Daivad?”

Daivad thought carefully about how to respond. The Colonel was a fervent patriot, so he would immediately bend to the Earthbreakers’ will, but Daivad didn’t know this woman. Didn’t trust her. And therefore he didn’t want to share anything with her about himself, the Colonel, or any of the other children living at the Farm, no matter how kind and friendly she seemed. Still, he couldn’t see what harm his answer to this question might cause, so he finally answered,

“Yes.”

“Would you tell it to me?” she asked.

This too Daivad considered for several moments. Until: “No.”

“Daivad!” the Colonel snapped.

But Auxica ignored the Colonel and simply asked, “Why?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do you like the story of Daivad?” she asked instead.

After another pause, he said, “No.”

Now Daivad could feel the Colonel’s anger, even though he kept his eyes on Auxica’s the whole time. She tilted her head, curious, a small smile behind her veil. He expected her to ask why he didn’t like the story, but instead she asked,

“Why were your boots the last to fall into formation this morning?”

Daivad thought for a long time about this. He considered refusing to respond, but before he could decide one way or the other, Tobei burst out, “He-helps-fix-all-our-uniforms!” all in a rush so the Colonel couldn’t cut him off.

The Colonel indeed chastised Tobei’s outburst, but Auxica smiled at him and said, “I see,” before thanking Daivad and moving on to the next child.

Daivad had thought about that interaction a thousand times over the years, trying to understand what it was about him that had made Auxica choose him. That was why, although Daivad remembered so little from his childhood, he could still slip into that memory as if it had happened last month.

But he had never been able to figure it out.

In all his years in Broken Earth, all the times he’d explored every inch of the castle, the grounds, and the city beyond the inner circle, Auxica had been the only safe place he had ever found. Without her, Daivad knew he would not have survived.

That didn’t mean he would have died. It meant he would have become exactly who Aran wanted him to be. And that was the worst fate he could imagine.

When they had fetched Pait a bedroll from storage, Daivad turned to the kid and asked himself what Auxica would say to her. To make her feel safe. To make her feel like it wasn’t wrong to be her.

Pait scrunched her reddish eyebrows at him and leaned back slightly. “Quit staring.”

But he came up with nothing. Instead, he said, “Look, I count only three options. You sleep on one of the landings, or the forest floor.”

She blinked. “Royal education is shit if you think that’s three options.”

In a growl, he said, “Or, you sleep in my house.”

Pait made a face. “Pass.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He made it a few paces away before she said, “I—Maybe just … show me where it is.”

He stopped. Turned. “Where what is?”

Pait huffed like it greatly inconvenienced her to have to say, “Your house.”