One of the last memories I have before my eyes were taken, was of the monastery.

A howling wind had plagued our progress all the morning, filling the air with glistening trails of ice. I had long since grown tired of the unchanging landscape unfolding around us, but still, I could not help but notice the great mountain when it loomed before us. It was by far the tallest of the peaks ranged around it, formed of a rock as black as pitch and shrouded in a mantel of white. And it was there, upon the vast southern slope, that I caught my first glimpse of the monastery.

The buildings were of a like I had never before seen, sharp rectangles which clung to the sheer rock as though carved from the very mountain itself. A pattern of holes peppered their surfaces, windows somehow blacker than the rock from which they were cut. But far stranger still, was the curious structure sitting beside it. Built upon a separate spur of rock and connected by a narrow bridge was a tower carved of the same dark mountain rock. It reminded me of a drawing my father had once made for me, of the lighthouses upon the distant coast. But it was not a fire which blazed upon its top but a dazzling light, like a star trapped within a cage.

Kelvin’s mind must have registered my curiosity, for soon his phantom words were once more descending upon my mind.

That, young Perrin, is the Temple of the Kloven. It is there that you shall witness the miracle of our order; there that you shall commune with the glorious and almighty Yophine…

***

By the time we had scaled the many thousands of steps cut into the mountain, we emerged onto a wide courtyard bathed beneath the light of the two full moons. The courtyard jutted from the mountain like a vast shelf, its surface dusted with newly fallen snow. Instinctively, I craned my neck to observe the mysterious tower, now a black pillar propped against the stars. But the light that had been so dazzling by day was now nowhere to be seen.

I was about to mention its curious absence to Kelvin when the monk with the crooked teeth swept past us, disappearing into the darkness without a backwards glance. He had not uttered a word to me following that fateful morning upon the cliff’s edge, but I sensed in the way he now departed that he still harboured me ill.

‘Think no more of Brother Clem,’ Kelvin said, as he carried me on across the flagstones, ‘he will trouble you no further. Something of his former bitterness and jealousy transmigrated into his Kloven shell, but he is harmless nonetheless.’

I didn’t understand what Kelvin meant by these strange words, but I kept my tongue as we continued on. Despite his assurances, I knew in my heart that Brother Clem was far from harmless, and that given the chance he would gladly have let me fall to my death that day upon the cliff.

The cold brutality of the monastery buildings seemed to press upon me, their dark shadows falling across the snow like the blackest ink spilled upon parchment. Seen up close, the stone rectangles appeared all the more alien to my senses, their unglazed windows like gaping mouths filled with darkness. In the total absence of light, I assumed the monastery to be deserted, but Kelvin once more answered my unspoken question by stating the contrary.

‘Remember, we Brothers of the Kloven do not see in the ways we once did as mortal men. We do not require light, so why waste time and effort illuminating that which we can already see?’

‘You mean to house me in such a place?’ I asked fearfully as the monk’s bare feet crunched through a drift of snow.

At that, Kelvin actually chuckled and shook his head.

‘One day you will indeed reside within the monastery walls, but for now more suitable stabling shall be provided.’

We had passed the last of the towering structures when a sudden out-pouring of light washed the snow before us in gold. After the hours in darkness, it took my eyes a few moments to register what I was seeing. Huddled at the base of the mountain rock was a long timber building. Unlike those unyielding slabs of stone that surrounded us, the wooden hall was dotted with glazed windows, each pouring forth the flickering warmth of oil fire lamps.

The sight of the house lifted my spirits somewhat, for it was not dissimilar to the simple dwellings I had known all my life. However, it was not without its mysteries. As a place of lodging, it was large enough to quarter a small army. It had not occurred to me that I might not be the only child that had been brought to this forsaken place.

Kelvin came to a halt upon the threshold and lowered me gently to the snow-covered ground. From beyond the heavy wooden door, I could hear the incomprehensible sounds of conversation and the childish squeal of laughter.

‘Here you will find others like you,’ Kelvin said, gesturing beyond the heavy door. ‘There is hot food to fill your belly and a bed in which you shall sleep soundly.’

‘Others?’ I replied uncertainly.

Kelvin smiled.

‘Shortly, a boy named Arlun will show you inside. He will care for your arm and avail you of your new quarters.’

I could hear footsteps approach the door, the clatter of a latch as a hand fumbled clumsily upon it.

‘I don’t understand…’

I turned to Kelvin, but already he had vanished, his parting words drifting through my mind like departing ghosts.

Fear no more, young Perrin. Tomorrow, all will be washed clean…

The door suddenly opened and I winced from the outpouring of light.

‘Hello, you must be Perrin!’

A boy of perhaps sixteen turns bade me enter the room. He smiled kindly and helped my sluggish legs into the warmth. Beyond was a large hall. A stout wooden table sat in the centre of the room, a blazing fire crackling in a stone hearth beside it. Boys of various ages filled the long benches, feasting upon a fine meal of which the table was laden.

It pains me even now to recall just how many other boys were gathered there that night; all of them so happy and carefree, their fears and woes long since swept away by a force I had yet to encounter.

I could not have imagined that in less than half a turn, most of them would already be dead.

***

Dozens of curious faces turned to watch as I was led into the hall. A heady aroma of freshly roasted meat drifted from the table, the bittersweet tang of spilt ale.

‘So you are the last of us,’ an older boy sneered, glancing up from his plate. His face was heavily dusted with freckles, his hair the colour of burnished copper.

‘I wonder how long you will last?’

Some of the boys knowingly chuckled at what he had said, but soon others were coming forward to shake my hand or pat me on the back. I winced as someone brushed against my broken arm and Arlun quickly shooed them away before taking me to a quieter corner of the hall.

‘Pay no heed to Dolgren’s spite,’ Arlun said, as he helped me onto a wooden stool. ‘He is Brother Clem’s pupil after all.’

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I nodded dully, though in truth I cared not for what the boy had said; I was far too distracted by my new surroundings. The raised voices and laughter was surreal after the utter loneliness of the past days.

It was only when Arlun began to tend to my broken arm, however, that I noticed something strange about the boys still milling around the table. Like Arlun, their skin was greatly tanned as though they had spent a turn beneath an endless summer. But stranger still were their oddly faded eyes. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then a boy would stumble into a wall or another would carelessly spill his ale; their bodies might have been those of children, but their eyes were already those of the infirm.

As Arlun worked to attach a new splint to my arm, I studied his face more closely. Being much older than the others, his eyes were all but bleached of colour, his thinning hair almost white above his tanned face. Smiling at my curiosity, he widened his eyes as though proud to display their decrepit condition.

‘We are all of us changing, Perrin,’ he grinned. ‘It won’t be long before we are the old men of the mountain.’

It scared me when he spoke this way, for I realised how much he welcomed this terrible fate. Such was my dismay that at last I could hold back my tears no longer and I began to cry.

When Arlun raised my head back from my lap his smile was one of kindness and concern.

‘Mendra-Kelvin has forbidden me to speak of tomorrow, as is the custom for all who first come upon the mountain. But believe me when I say that tomorrow all of your fear and doubt will be gone.’

Of course, I could not hope to understand what he had meant by these words, but I felt myself relax nonetheless. After partaking of a thin soup, Arlun took me to the loft where I was provided a small room of my own.

As I lay there alone that night, I listened to the muffled conversation issuing from below. The boy called Dolgren shouted something obscene and the other boys laughed in turn. I knew that the jest was about me and I buried my head beneath my pillow in shame.

In the turns to come, Arlun would become like a brother to me, and I was deeply thankful for the kindness he showed me on that first night when all appeared so strange and confusing. But as fate would allow, the boy Dolgren would also figure significantly in my time with the Kloven, though it would not be for the good.

As sleep finally settled upon me, I clasped the ring of willowing my brother had fashioned the day I was taken, and dreamed of the day I would return home.

***

Wake, it is time.

A strange voice echoed inside my head and I jerked suddenly awake. I could hear the other boys sleepily emerging from their rooms, and with a heavy heart I dragged myself out of bed. As Arlun had instructed the night before, I changed hurriedly into the black robes he had left for me and opened my door.

The fires of evening had long since turned to ash and when I eventually descended the stairs it was into the freezing cold. The table was now bare of its feast and the front door was wide open. A monk stood perfectly still upon the threshold, a light snow falling in wisps about him. Unbidden, the other children had already formed a line at his back. I hesitated, uncertain of what I should do, when Arlun beckoned me into place.

For the longest time, we waited there in silence; our collective breaths raising silver clouds in the moonlight. Just as I was beginning to think we would remain there all the morning, the monk suddenly stepped out into the darkness. Like a ragged line of frozen ducklings, we followed in his wake out across the desolate courtyard beyond.

The cold within the timber house was as nothing to the cold beyond it. It bit through the course weave of my robes as though unmindful of its presence and I gasped in alarm. What was worse, our feet were bare and the snow burned like hot coals beneath them. It seemed I was not alone in my discomfort, for I heard another boy groan in misery, the sound of his teeth chattering like my own. I recalled what Arlun said the night before, of embracing the cold as another kind of heat, but try as I might my shivering would not abate.

Soon the dark tower was looming before us, a deeper black against the predawn sky. The blinding light that had blazed from the temple’s summit the day before was still absent, and as we drew ever nearer, a deeper foreboding replaced my concern for the cold. I sensed something waiting for me inside its dark walls, something unnatural and wrong. I wanted then to flee, to run as fast as my legs could carry me. But the pull of the line propelled me on, dragging me ever nearer like a frightened animal drawn by the rope.

A stone bridge arced out across the void between temple and monastery and together we shuffled across it in single file. Such was my terror that I considered jumping to my death, if only to rid myself of what was to come. But before I knew it, we had already reached the other side.

The temple sat upon its pillar of stone, surrounded on all sides by the abyss. Snow lay in thick drifts around its feet, jagged icicles bristling from its stone like the spikes of some dreadful creature. There was no door as such, but a wide circular portal which loomed from the snow and ice like a gaping mouth.

One by one, we were bidden inside.

A greater darkness enveloped me as I stepped forward. Holding my breath, I waited for the nameless presence to pounce upon me. It wasn’t until my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, however, that I realised the tower was empty!

With relief, my eyes passed across the gloomy interior, seeing only row upon row of seats spiralling up into the heights of the tower. Already, the other boys were climbing a shallow stair, and quickly I followed behind as they filed along the lowest tier. The stone was as cold as ice and made for a most uncomfortable seat, but now I was captivated by a growing presence in the great shaft above us.

In the gloom it was difficult to discern what it might be, but a nameless something hung above us. If darkness could glisten, that was how it appeared; its formless bulk filling the hollow above our heads like molten pitch. Even the quiet shuffling of our feet seemed to illicit a faint ringing from it, as though it were singing in a voice that could barely be heard.

Perrin, you are here at last. There is nothing to fear and only good will come of what you are about to witness.

I flinched as Kelvin’s words entered my mind and turned to find him amongst the gathering monks, but they all looked alike. Mistaking my sudden movement for fear, Arlun patted my arm in comfort. I could barely see my friend’s face next to mine, yet I knew that he, like those many other boys around us, was tense with mounting excitement.

Time passed slowly as the chamber filled with a seemingly endless procession of monks. I lost count after three hundred and twelve had passed through the opening, but still they came. The only sound in the chamber was the shuffling of restless feet, of teeth rattling inside adolescent skulls. The monks themselves made not a sound; indeed, we might have been alone in the stone temple had I not witnessed them enter myself.

Through the open door, I saw the horizon begin to glow with the first promise of dawn. I stared at the distant peaks as they took on the colours of winter berries and wished more than ever that I was beyond their embrace.

Suddenly, my attention was directed back inside the chamber. Darkness still held sway upon us, but the object hanging above our heads had changed. There was now the faintest suggestion of shape, the subtle hint of colour. The more I looked upon it, the less I understood of its form. At first, I thought it was as insubstantial as a cloud, but then it seemed as solid as rock. It was static, but also in motion; a slowly shifting mass pulsating with colours forged in darkness. It was an impossibility, a contradiction, a paradox… but it was somehow more real than the stone beneath our feet.

I had only a moment to ponder this new wonder blossoming before me when the monks began to sing. Their voices rose in unison, filling the stone chamber like a crashing tide that seemed to set the very stones trembling at our feet. I had never before heard mouths giving voice to words that were not of my own language, but as beautiful as their singing sounded, it was also deeply unsettling.

I felt the cold recede from my body as I sat transfixed by the growing shape. Flames of crimson had ignited within it, building to muddy golds and ochres. The monks’ singing seemed to rise in unison with the growing light until it echoed too within our minds.

Caught within a growing daze, I craned my neck towards the hollow tunnel above our heads and saw the many hundreds of monks now illuminated by the gathering light. Their number staggered me, filling the walls in their hundreds. They might have been statues, were it not for their mouths opening and closing around the alien words that shook the air.

A sudden flash of light brought my eyes back to the shape as it grew brighter still. The yellows and golds were transformed into a white so brilliant it excluded all other colour. It should have been too bright to behold and yet somehow my eyes remained open. The singing rose in pitch, a sound now more akin to screaming than song. I felt my body become weightless as my consciousness blended with those all around me. I was Arlun and Arlun was me. I was Mendra-Kelvin and Brothers whose names I did not yet know.

In a time that seemed to span a hundred lifetimes, we travelled together beyond the mortal plane of existence and on to Yophine.

And there, finally, I understood.

***

The biggest lie I ever told was the one I told myself when at last I stumbled from the temple. As I tried to blink the haziness from my eyes, I told myself that I would indeed ask Kelvin to return me home.

But of course, I knew that I would do no such thing.

What I had discovered within the stone walls of the temple had touched me more deeply than I could ever have imagined. It was as though a vast door had been opened within me; a revelation that had less to do with seeing or feeling than it did of being.

At last I understood Kelvin’s words of before, that in the end, it would be me that decided to stay. For, how could I love anyone else in this world when God was already here?