“I’m what?!” yelled Harin,

The anxiety that had been growing in his chest had enveloped his heart, causing it to beat loud as a war drum. Selrine’s expression hadn’t changed as she stared at Harin, dumbstruck.

“You… are a Partner, Harin. And you… wield Darkness,” Selrine spoke slowly and clearly, as if passing a death sentence.

“I… what? What does that even mean?” Harin had regained enough of his composure to ask in a level voice, barely able to hear his own voice over the blood pumping past his eardrums.

He sounded afraid.

Selrine continued in her measured tone as if trying not to give in to her own anxiety,

“Calm down, Harin. It means… it means that you are both rare and… dangerous. To yourself – to others.” Harin started to shake his head slowly, trying to deny her words,

“No… No… That shouldn’t be. It can’t be. You must have made… a mistake, right?” Harin’s eyes glistened with the moisture called forth by the thought that he would be taken from his family, especially because they needed him.

“I… do not make mistakes, Harin. I am sorry. You may be escorted to your home, to let your family know – if you have one – and afterwards you shall come with us to Light’s Grasp where you will be Selected.” Overcoming her own shock, Selrine’s expression softens as she explains what will happen as if it were a foregone conclusion,

“There isn’t… a choice?” Harin’s shock had caused all muscles in his face to relax, as if they had something better to do. His green-grey eyes were glassy emeralds, hiding behind them a lake of misery. Selrine grimly shook her head.

“No. There can be no choice, not for anyone who so possesses the gift of the Elements. Especially not for a Partner of your… particular persuasion.” She chose her words carefully, trying to limit Harin’s misery. Though her dam was inadequate to hold back the ocean that had formed in Harin’s soul, it was holding. For now.

The blond man standing behind Selrine, who had been silent throughout, now began to speak. His voice was the low rumble of a thunderstorm; the air stood still as he spoke.

“Boy,” shaking his head slightly, he corrects himself, “No, Harin. You must accept this duty; it has been bestowed upon you by Lucerian himself to save his Holy Kingdom. You have a great power before you – reach out and take it! You must, to save yourself. To save this Kingdom.” His words held a conviction that Harin had not thought could be communicated through language. It felt to him as if he had been proffered a hand to pull him from the ocean he had sunken into,

“If… I am not Selected do I… return here?” The man simply nods in confirmation.

“Then I will go. Willingly,” The shock receding, Harin frowns, “Does... my family get the compensation payment?” He speaks firmly at first, then as if treading on uncertain ground.

He had heard rumours that the Crown had refused to pay the compensation to some of the Tested’s families.

“No, not immediately. They will receive the compensation after you have been Selected. It is… an unfortunate stipulation… but the Crown would rather not pay needless sums when it may not have gained anything. You must be trained first, after all, and not every Tested survives it.” Selrine again leads the conversation, drawing Harin’s gaze back to her.

“Then how will they survive without my work in the stables? They will starve before I finish.” At this, Selrine starts slightly but quickly regains her composure.

“They will be provided with enough to live. I will see to it personally; you have my word, Conduit’s honour,” there was an odd glint in her eyes that made Harin trust her words.

After this lengthy conversation, Harin is escorted to one of several carriages that were waiting in the town. Giving directions to his family’s cottage, the driver set off at a quick pace.

----------------------------------------

A long time passed where the sound of horses’ hooves against the cobbled streets of Graendale, and subsequently the dirt road, was the only thing Harin could focus on. Green and yellow fields blurred through his peripheral vision as various scents and odours assaulted his senses, wood smoke and manure, fresh bread and rotten meat. He could but maintain a stoic disposition; it was the only way he would not try to run.

Since Graendale, and many other farming towns, found themselves in the Fistral plains, the carriage ride was smooth. The Fistral plains is home to the most level and fertile land in the entirety of the Lucerian Holy Kingdom. Thus, it is also home to most of – and the most successful – agricultural settlements this side of the Kingdom, which brings many benefits to the surrounding infrastructure. Though most of the roads were still dirt, they were flat and smooth.

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Eventually, they drew close to Harin’s cottage – one of a few in a small roadside hamlet – and the carriage ceased movement. Jolted by the sudden stop, Harin was transported back to reality. He was home, but not for long. His mother, having seen the carriage, stepped out the door. Her village-woman dress was dyed in subdued yellows and browns. She waited patiently at the door, and moved closer only after Harin had touched his feet to earth.

Harin turned to face her, guiltily avoiding her eyes as if she had caught him stealing from the cupboard. His mother holds his shoulders for a moment, watching his face before pulling him into a hug.

“It is not your fault, Harin,” Her voice was reassuring as she spoke, “You must go. We will survive, and I will tell your brothers.”

Harin could not reply for fear that he would choke on his own words. Instead, he settled for remaining there a while. Leaning his head on his mother’s shoulder, forgetting the world for at least a moment.

A long while passed before Harin pulled away from her embrace,

“I love you, Ma. Thanks for that – for everything, really…” Harin trailed off, his voice thin and brittle, as if it could shatter in the air at any moment. She nods silently.

Harin turns back to the carriage, entering the brown lacquered wooden box through the just-large-enough door on the side. He climbed in carefully, the mud on his boots providing a slip hazard he would rather avoid. Having informed the driver that he had finished his farewells, the gruff man whipped the air and the horses pulled the cart to bear in the direction from which they had come , a second whip setting them off at a walk.

The journey back to Graendale was significantly easier. Harin no longer felt only impending doom on the horizon, but also the trepidation of an adventurer. He was still anxious, yet curiosity and excitement were beginning to take root.

He stared out of the small cut-out in the door of the carriage which served as a window, watching as the sky went through various colourful metamorphoses at the horizon, blue to yellow-pink, pastel orange to purple. Before Harin had realised it, the carriage was drawing itself to a stop outside the Testing building.

He sat waiting in the carriage for Selrine and her Partner for about an hour before they had finished with Testing the remainder of the town. It was late; the sky was darkening as the sun fell below the horizon. Despite this, the two climbed into the carriage and sat opposite Harin. The Crown’s men and soldiers prepared to leave Graendale, much to the clear relief of the residents. The atmosphere in the carriage was a little awkward, and after a long while, Selrine broke the silence.

“Did you… manage your farewells?” Her words came slowly and clearly, with the accent of the capital and the enunciation of a noblewoman, which she clearly was.

“Yes. With your help, they’ll be fine – I’ll be fine,” Harin’s words held a resolve he had not realised had crystallised within him, “I... don’t understand what a Partner does, or a Conduit. They are weapons of the Crown, but that is all I know…”

“Well… I would have thought that even in the Fistral they teach you at least a little more, but it seems I was wrong,” Selrine’s scandalised tone of voice and furrowed brow made it clear that she had not visited many towns of Graendale’s calibre before.

“Lady Selrine…? We… don’t actually receive any formal education…”

Stopping suddenly before she began what she would have said, Selrine’s expression moves from one of confusion and light anger to one of incredulity, her mouth hanging open slightly before she manages to recompose her features.

“You… don’t? Then how do you speak so well?” she asks, mildly confused.

Harin turns his head to gaze out the window while he speaks, slowly and with measured words,

“My father, before he lived here, was an accountant in the capital. He taught my brothers and I basic literacy, and basic arithmetic. I can read and write well enough to correspond through letters, and perform simple calculations, but that is about it. And I was lucky,” as Harin speaks, Selrine’s expressions hardens. Before she can speak, her Partner does.

“Your father… he was conscripted? I pray for his soul. But with men and women like you and I on the warfront, Conduits and Partners, it is possible to turn that prayer into reality. We are able to Draw on the Elements; but not alone. When we Draw, we do so through our own souls. A single soul cannot withstand the power of the Elements alone – not for long – and so it is necessary to join the soul of a Conduit to that of their Partner; a permanent thing. In doing so, they are strengthened, and they are capable of Drawing on the Elements individually. A second consequence of this process is the Partner being able to Draw on both the Elements that his soul is capable of wielding, and the Elements of his Conduit, simultaneously. His power increases exponentially. The only drawback is that he must protect his Conduit, who is now powerless as he takes control. This means that we are the most effective military assets a country can possess. As such, we are appropriately small in number.”

This explanation both enlightened and confused Harin; he did not understand, for instance, how one Partner or Conduit could wield multiple Elements seeing as he had only one – Darkness – to his name, if it was even an Element to begin with, or how – if the Drawing was done through the soul – why certain bloodlines produced Partners and Conduits at a far greater rate than common families.

He would have to wait for his answers, though.

An arrow embedded itself in the door of the carriage, the entire tip and a couple inches of the shaft having pierced through it entirely before halting.

Shouts could be heard outside, the screams of dying men and horses carried through the forest they had been travelling through.

Arrows continued to thud and batter against the side of the carriage, blood seeped through the front section of their carriage’s roof – a crimson teardrop landed on Harin’s neck.

Selrine and her Partner turned to face each other before silently nodding and moving to exit the carriage.

They began to glow.