Ulrich took Ezril by the shoulder and covered him in a thick cloak. He led him through the gates and into the seminary. They walked past the fields of grass and odd plants, and Ezril watched the first light of day covet the sky. He knew he was the last of the participants to walk through the gates because Ulrich had told him so. He also knew it because anyone else who arrived now would be late.
On their arrival at the walls Ulrich took the cloak off him.
"We don't want the others thinking you get special treatment," he said, smiling. "Now go on. You are to remain in your room like the rest of your mates until you all are called for."
Ezril walked into the compound as the portcullis was raised, alone and filled with a loss of achievement. He missed being able to come back home to a meal and aunt Teneri.
One year and this place still doesn't feel like home.
The group Ezril met in the room was not too surprising.
Olufemi was rested on his bed with a certain care free nature he only displayed in the wild, Darvi was biting his nails, something Ezril had noticed the boy only did when he was worried. Six other children were accounted for, Salem was with Divine, Unkuti toyed around with one of his miniature wooden projects. Alric sat beside Darvi. There was Takan, and there was Olbi.
Three, lost to the mist, Ezril realized. The priests had sent them to an unknown fate. Do they even care?
He took his first step into the room and caught Takan' eyes on him. The boy had a fresh wound along his cheek and Ezril was relieved to know he wasn't the only one with an injury from the ordeal.
"Ezril!" Olufemi announced with zest, his voice odd in the presence of his brothers. "You made it."
The boy came up to him. Ezril wondered if he had seen Darvi smile when Olufemi called his name.
"You were just lucky this time," Takan said from where he sat on his bed. It took Ezril a moment to realize that the boy had not been talking to him.
"I told him if you didn't make it I would leave the seminary," Olufemi explained to Ezril. It surprised him that the boy had chosen to willingly speak to someone other than him.
"When did you say that?" Ezril asked.
Olufemi shrugged. "An hour ago."
"You do know they would not have allowed you." Ezril reminded him. “The seminary doesn’t just let people go.”
"He still almost didn't make it, brother," Takan commented, speaking to Olufemi. He shook his head. "So much for being mistborn."
Ezril never remembered telling anyone he was mistborn, but he let the statement lie. He was back and Olufemi, amongst others, was safe. For now, that was enough for him. He would take his small wins, though he considered this one a big win.
Olufemi ignored Takan and pulled Ezril by his uninjured arm all the way to his bed. The moment Olufemi opened his mouth, Ezril knew he was going to be involved in a never ending story.
"You met Tindubu," Unkuti said before Olufemi spoke. It was more of a statement than a question.
Ezril turned a puzzled look on him. “Tinku—what?”
"Tindubu. The guardian of the forest," Unkuti clarified. "How did you survive it? No one is known to survive it. Do the Fathers know?"
Unkuti made his way to join them on Olufemi's bed, taking an interest Ezril had never known the boy capable of, although it was understandable. After all, it seemed it had something to do with what he was sure was one of the boy's many stories. Ezril was certain that this creature—whatever its name was—was related to tales of the Tainted in one way or another.
"No, they do not,” Ezril said. “And who's Tinlulu?"
Unkuti furrowed his brows, as would a child who discovered that a fascinating rock, upon picking it, was no more than a cluster of sand stones. "Tindubu is the guardian of the forest of the Tainted. The bear. It is said to be Broken."
"Would you quit it with that nonsense," Salem scolded from his place with Divine. "You know you'd be given a flogging if the Fathers hear you talking about the Broken."
"What did he look like?" Unkuti asked, ignoring Salem, the interest back in his voice.
Ezril found he did not like the attention. Wanting very much to not be an active part of their brother’s stories of the Tainted, he changed the subject to something more calming, more somber.
"Are we the only ones?" he asked.
Unkuti's face took on frustration. "Yes," he replied blandly, uninterested.
"You should see Drikael's tower," Takan said, as if holding a joke. "None of them made it."
"And how do you know this?" Alric asked, suddenly joining the conversation.
It was no secret that Alric had a silent dislike for the Takan, though he rarely showed it. Ezril never broached it in mind, though. He, too, had a silent dislike for Alric for no apparent reason. Sometimes he wondered if it was because Darvi spent a lot of time with the boy whereas the only time spent with him comprised mostly of hitting him with a stick as he taught him to fight. Ezril refused to believe he was jealous of their friendship. He refused to believe he was that petty.
"I heard it," Takan retorted. “All of them gone.”
"From whom?" Alric asked, unable to completely keep his disgust out of his tone. He didn’t even seem to try.
This time Takan had no response. He bit on his lower lip and looked away. He refused to meet the eyes of any of the others that had taken an interest in their conversation.
"How long did it take you?" Ezril asked Olufemi, extracting them from the conversation. He had believed from the start that Olufemi would make it back first. The boy always had the aura of a wanderer who knew his way.
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Olufemi smiled a wry little smile. "Not long."
"How long have you been back?" Ezril rephrased the question.
"I've been here since noon yesterday,” Olufemi answered. “I think the Fathers placed me very far from the gates knowingly."
Unkuti, not seeming too happy with their new conversation, returned to his bed. Ezril had an idea of why the boy didn't like it, and it was not because he had stopped telling his story. It was most likely because he was now being ignored.
Ezril returned his attention to Olufemi. "Why would they do that?"
Olufemi leaned in closer and his voice came out in a whisper. "Maybe they wanted to make it tougher for me."
When Ezril proved confused, Olufemi added: "I came to the seminary alone."
"You've walked the mist before," Ezril blurted. His hand covered his mouth, and he was glad his voice hadn’t been too loud.
Olufemi smiled and tipped his head towards Darvi. Ezril had noticed his observation before Unkuti left them: Darvi was watching them, and he was listening.
"You and Darvi are like those two..." Olufemi tilted his head towards Divine and Salem to explain better, changing the conversation. "Always paying attention to each other but without the time spent together."
Ezril chuckled. "I wish."
The conversation staled after that. Olufemi’s action of changing the conversation was one of the signs Ezril used to know when the boy didn’t want to continue having a conversation.
Tindubu, Ezril pondered a while later. Is it just a bear or is it Broken? The question felt stupid in his mind.
It was a question whose answer he felt he would one day come to know and regret. The yellow eyes. The lost knife. The old man. The misty forest. It was like the beginning of a poorly written legend.
It was not long before an older boy came to summon them at Father Talod's instruction. Morning was slowly becoming noon when he arrived, and Ezril recognized him as Saneed.
According to the boy, Father Talod required them to assemble at the courtyard before the hundred and twenty-eighth beat of the heart.
The instruction took them by surprise. Talod was not one to give time frames in such a manner. It was more a norm of Father Zakarid. At the command they would run to the intended location without delay, counting their own increasing heartbeat as they did. What heartbeat speed the priest gave the command under was never known. Nonetheless, there were always some who failed. Those who did would always receive punishments for it.
Ezril and his brothers scrambled to their feet, rushing out the door. They trooped down the tower stairs as fast as they could, Saneed at the head of the procession. A few flights of stairs down, a thought came to Ezril: why stay behind Saneed if we can outrun him?
Without as much as a warning to anyone, he leapt over the stone balustrade and landed on the next flight of stairs. The stair’s balustrade was more a massive slab of stonework without actual balusters. Ezril skipped the remaining steps and landed on the next flight of stairs with a jump. His feet landed on the edge of one of the steps and he slipped down three more before regaining his balance.
In a split moment another body landed on the steps behind him as he trudged forward. Ezril spared a glance behind him and saw Olufemi. The boy had a wide grin on his face. Olufemi vaulted over the balustrade of the current flight of stairs, leaping on to the next flight immediately. It put him in the lead.
Ezril smiled. Pulling stunts while tracking your heart is what you would be best at, brother.
They arrived at the courtyard not too long after, unsurprised to find that they weren't the only ones called. Children from the other eleven towers came running. Some came strolling in comfort. Amongst the towers present in the seminary were twelve towers, housing the different children of the seminary. Konvac. Ilnart. Shal’ra. Feala. Bjeal. Drikael. AnuI. Bagri. Imk'rit. Denza’it. Fig. And Tamaron.
All were named after the twelve cohorts of Brandis Algon.
"How many?" Talod asked, standing ahead of the Monsignor, Zakarid, and a group of older students.
"Ninety-two, Father," Saneed replied.
"I see," Crowl said. "Handle them as you see fit, Father Talod."
Sometimes Father Zakarid did the same thing. He would pick one of them as they arrived or finish the task and ask, "How many?"
If it rose above the intended beat count, then those that came after the brother would serve the same punishment. Sometimes he freed them if his pick fell within the stipulated count, which was ever so rare. Sometimes they lied about their count. But it took a simple glance or touch of the wrist before the lie came unraveling and Zakarid would take up the cane and apply it as part of his punishment.
"A man must strive for honesty; it is but the one thing that binds us to Truth," he would tell them amidst the sounds of cane on flesh, "but if you are to lie, make sure you won't atone for it in this life." The latter he would always say with a cunning in his eyes.
As time passed, they learned that the punishments for stealing and lying were severe, a few of them having been caught on different occasions. Ezril, however, never suffered this. There was no question among his peers that he was adept at stealing whatever he had to. It was a skill he’d learned well from watching the children of the underbelly back home.
Ezril and his brothers’ stay in the seminary helped them understand that the punishments were, however, not designed for the actions, but for the sin of getting caught.
Ezril never stole from his peers, only the older children. Even then, he took things of no major importance from the seminary. Honesty was part of the foundation of the Credo, a complete opposition to lies, and yet, the seminary encouraged, in their own way, lies to its perfection.
In the seminary, lying was not the sin, getting caught was.
"When most of you first came to us," Crowl began when Talod was done counting the late children, "you had no direction in life. Some of you believed you had families, but you were wrong. You were but children, and you are still but children. But one day you will grow to understand what it truly means to be a family.” He paused, watching them, meeting their eyes. “A few of you had questions when you came or ideologies you did not fully comprehend..."
Ezril could not help but feel the old man referred to him.
"You were told that you had no family save the seminary as you continued to remain with us. That remains true.” Crowl scratched his head. He seemed to contemplate his next words. When he spoke them, it was as if he counted each word. “From the first day you stepped your feet in the seminary, you had begun on your path. In the test you have completed you have proved that you can find your way back home. Whereas the others that couldn't find theirs will hopefully make a new home elsewhere. And for that, let us have a moment to acknowledge the time they spent with us."
A moment of silence followed. Ezril wondered just how many of them had simply been unable to find their way home, and how many had failed to remain on the path of life. He wondered if any of them would run into Tindubu.
"Once, your stay here was one of privilege," Crowl said, breaking the silence. "But now, it is your right. Nothing can take that away and, even in death, you will remain one of us. We are a family. But it will do us good to always remember that we are also our chains."
The monsignor turned and, with a nod, he left them to the priests.
"Those of you who arrived late, come with me,” Talod commanded, taking his leave. “You know yourselves. The rest of you report to Father Zakarid,"
The culprits followed after him.
All that was left of them was Olbi, Olufemi, Darvi, and Ezril. The others had failed to beat the heart-beat mark.
Ezril walked away with his companions. A single thought preoccupied his mind. The Test of the pathfinder had left him with one final challenge even after his success.
"I never saw your knife, Ezril," Darvi observed, his first words to him since he came back.
Ezril sometimes found himself wondering what exactly their friendship was. It was a stupid thing to ponder on, but he could not help but ponder, still. While they were all brothers, he could not call them all friends. For him, Olufemi was a friend. As for Darvi, they spent time only when Darvi tutored him, but the boy was also nice. It made Ezril wonder if they were simply brothers as the seminary had forced them to be, or if they were friends as well.
Ezril frowned at Darvi’s statement as Olufemi bounded past him happily with a teasing smile. The gesture itself spoke volumes.
Ezril ignored them as they walked. He had direr issues to worry about. With the loss of his hunting knife, he was going to have to face one of the dreaded challenges of the seminary....
…. Father Azet.