“I am wholly present in the now!” sang Acolyte Torstag.

Unlock Scout, Forest Proficiency, Foraging? whispered his Tempter.

Torstag did not pause in his weeding. The season was turning and dusk brought with it a cold wind that whistled down the Untrodden Valley. The sooner the weeds were gone, the sooner he could warm his fingers. He continued, working in time to the words; “Present now and forever.”

“As am…I,” sang back Acolyte Ingar, a shrill tenor to Torstag’s increasingly deep baritone. “Forever and forever.”

The two acolytes were fighting back an infestation of Creeping Mandrake in the planting beds by the parapet of Middle Terrace, one of five massive platforms raised out of the towering rock walls of the Untrodden Valley.

They sang in unison: “Verily, for all Eternity, Life After Life, My Every In…car…na…tion. In accordance with the Book of Obedience.”

On this cold day, the words were like stones settling in Torstag’s belly, but they were supposed to silence the Tempter and if you didn’t keep singing, the monks would beat you.

The sun flashed on the snow-capped peaks of the mountains making up the opposite wall of the valley. Torstag imagined standing there and seeing the world beyond.

Unlock Scout, Mountain Proficiency, Climb? whispered his Tempter.

Acolyte Ingar edged a little closer. “Even as putrefaction takes each and every of my mortal forms.” He flashed a wolfish grin from under his cowl. He was a head shorter than Torstag. However, his freckles gave his round face a dirty lived-in look, making him seem older. “Hey, Torstag?”

“Shush!” hissed Torstag. “We need to stay out of trouble.”

“Pish and boll-ocks,” sang Ingar. “The monks won’t no…ooo…tice”—he made an arpeggio of that last word—“as long as we sing this blo…uh…uh…dy stu…oo…pid…song.”

They chorused, “In accordance with the Book of Obedience.”

Torstag glanced around the terrace. The Grey Cortège had harvested Ingar from his theatrical troupe at the advanced age of twelve, a crucial two years later than normal. Six years on, and Ingar still hadn’t settled to monastic life.

Today, however, Ingar was lucky; the garden terrace seemed empty. If anybody was listening, they were far enough away only to hear the melody, not the words.

Torstag leaned closer and hissed, “We can’t mess around any more.” He glanced over his shoulder—still okay. “If we want to become priests.”

That was the plan; to qualify as priests, get posted to some distant temple, and simply fade away into the Ten Thousand Realms.

“There are otherererererer wa—ays to get ow-ow-ut of here,” sang Ingar.

“Not safe…ways,” sang Torstag. “The Portal To Outside is guarded day and…night.”

“There must be a route…down the…cliffs,” sang Ingar. “When I get out…I’m going to fuck all the women and drink…all…the beer.” He added in his speaking voice, “Though not necessarily in that order.”

“If we want to get out, we need to—” said Torstag. He found himself staring past the parapet and wondering, not for the first time, where the Untrodden Valley led to.

“Torstag?” prompted Ingar.

Torstag returned to singing. “-obey the rules as set out in the Book of Obedience.”

“Do you even want to escape?” said Ingar.

“Yes,” said Torstag. “I want to be my own man.”

“You’ll have to be your own man before you can escape,” said Ingar. “You do know that, right?”

Torstag looked beyond his friend to the distant peaks.

A weed bit his finger.

He pinched the plant’s head and twisted it off. “Damn.”

Unlock Scout, Forest Proficiency, Foraging, or Entertainer, Geeking?

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He Tempter was louder now. It helpfully supplied an explanatory vision of biting off chicken heads while carnival-goers jeered and cheered.

“I am wholly present in the now!” sang Torstag, firmly banishing the Dead Memory. He straightened and sucked at his wounded finger. His back, meanwhile, reminded him that he was now too tall to spend days stooping at the planting beds.

“Oh, really?” sang Ingar. He moved close enough to bump shoulders. “There’s a g…uh…uh…rll in the Stone Grove!”

“A what?”

“A girl,” whispered Ingar. “Like a boy, but with curves and other…features.”

“I know what a damn girl is.” Torstag stamped and rubbed his hands together against the cold. “But it’s not possible.” Then he sang, “I do…not…wa…aa…ont…to know!”

“There is! There is!” sang Ingar as he edged closer. His eyes were bright. “A Girl. A Vessel of Ini…qui…ty.”

Unlock Homesteader, Horticulture, or Entertainer, Geeking? murmured his Tempter.

Now he had flashes of himself tending strange blooms under a canopy of greenery and while nearby a naked, blue-skinned woman pounded at a quern, flesh quivering enticingly as she—and then back to biting off chicken heads in the carnival.

A rod bit into his shoulders. “Acolyte Torstag! You stopped chanting!”

He turned but did not flinch.

Brother Neutrality, who had a way of stalking up unnoticed, brandished the implement. “You were listening to your Tempter!”

The grey-robed man somehow seemed smaller than before. When they dragged Torstag away from his family’s tumbledown castle, the Grey Cortège had been terrifying giants. It had taken him a good season to throw off the memory of the white glare under grey hoods, voiceless gestures, and the cold hands taking his. It had taken longer still to lose the nightmares of his grandmother collapsing as they tore him out of her arms.

Now, eight years later, this Brother, and all the others, seemed…breakable. He wasn’t sure that was the right world, but it would—he felt—be easy to break Brother Neutrality.

Unlock Warrior, Pugilism Proficiency or Polearm Proficiency, Wrath Strike?

That was louder than usual.

Torstag’s gaze flitted to where they had propped wooden stakes against the parapet wall. Nearby lay a long-handled hammer. Come to think of it, swung properly…

“Acolyte Torstag!” snapped the Brother.

Torstag lowered his eyes. “Sorry, Brother Neutrality. It always comes as a surprise.”

“Temptation should never come as a surprise,” pronounced Brother Neutrality. “It is as inevitable as Death and Rebirth. It is why you must chant to silence its voice.”

“In accordance with the Book of Obedience,” recited Torstag. “Thank you, Brother Neutrality.”

The Brother struck him again. The rod was heavy enough to smart through the thick robes.

Torstag focussed on the mountains on the other side of the Untrodden Valley.

“If you let it in…” Another blow. The Brother continued, punctuating his words with rod, “…then you will lose yourself to your past self, the dead hollowing out the living. This is not what your Past Self wanted. Is this what you want?”

Unlock Warrior, Disarm?

Torstag shook his head. “No, Brother Neutrality.” His fists clenched within his wide sleeves. However, something prevented him from raising them in anger. “Thank you for schooling me, Brother Neutrality.”

“You were trouble from the beginning,” said the old man, turning away. “You’ll never be a priest.”

Fuck you too, Smelly Newt, thought Torstag, but the fun had gone out of using the old nickname.

Unlock Scout, Stalk Close, or Entertainer, Stunning Insult?

Torstag wasn’t even sure what those were. Shut up! “I am truly present,” he sang.

“As am I,” sang back Ingar.

They carried on like that until Brother Neutrality was out of earshot. “There cannot be a girl the Brothers would have ex…pel…ell…ed her,” sang Torstag.

Ingar’s hood bulged left then right—the youth was shaking his head. “They don’t know yet,” he said in a low voice. “Nobody uses the Stone Grove in cold weather.”

“So who found her?”

“Hohan. He’d been tending to the Temple of Gronchard and I guess he wanted some privacy to…you know…”

Torstag pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache. “Really, I don’t want to know!”

“Well, I’m going to take a look,” said Ingar. He hopped up onto the raised beds and made for the parapet. “I’ll be quicker without you, anyway.”

“You can’t!” Torstag gripped Ingar’s arm.

“I bloody can climb down. Watch me.”

“No, I mean, Women are Vessels of Iniquity. Epicentres of Temptation,” said Torstag. He knew it was probably not true, but it felt true. His headache worsened. “It says so in the Book of Obedience.”

“Just what I need,” said Ingar. “I didn’t choose to be here.”

Torstag gasped. He grabbed the material of his friend’s cassock. “But you did. Your Past Self had an Epiphany.”

“Bugger my past self,” said Ingar, “sideways, with a bargepole. I want me some iniquity and maybe a little temptation.” He shook free from Torstag. “As far as anybody’s concerned, I’m tending the Chapel of Gronchard.”

“You can’t.”

“This may be the only girl we ever see.”

“But we’ve both seen girls before we were taken,” said Torstag.

Ingar flushed behind his freckles. “You know what I mean.”

“I thought you had a plan?”

Unlock Warlord, Commanding Presence or Sneak Raid?

Ingar shrugged weakly. “Not a safe one.”

“No,” said Torstag. “You don’t even know how far down you’d have to climb to get to the valley floor. And the monks would catch you.”

“Ha,” said Ingar. “I’m more worried about not starving to death once I’ve escaped.”

“Your appetite!”

“Talking of which,” said Ingar. He clapped Torstag’s shoulder. “Old Smelly Newt’s done his rounds. He’s probably toasting his feet by a fire right now. I’ll see you later.”

There was a scraping sound from Torstag’s bucket. Some weeds were trying to climb out, so he stabbed them with his trowel.

His Tempter whispered: Unlock Warrior, Dagger Proficiency, Multiple Jabs, or Homesteader, Butter Making?

“Nice try”, muttered Torstag.

“What?” said Ingar.

“I’ll come with you,” said Torstag. “But we’ll have to take the Water Stairs.”