Father Jugen came for Ezril at the rise of dawn with the same Osun that had brought them. To Ezril's surprise, he came with a sister of the convent.

Together they rode in silence with another boy Ezril recognized from the Seminary. The boy had not been a part of his group when they had been brought here for the test. Ezril found that he couldn’t care enough to unravel the mystery of it. The absence of Olbi, however, left his mind fearing the worst.

The nun whom Lenaria had called Sister Beneril had waited outside as Father Jugen had walked into the shelter and woken them. The walk to the carriage after had been done in shameful silence. They shared the carriage for their return. When the carriage got to its destination, the nun left them, going her separate way. Alone.

On arrival at the seminary, Jugen instructed them into following him. He led them all the way to the Monsignor's chambers. It was Ezril's first time in the room, and he was surprised to find it filled with books on every shelf. The shelves covered most of the walls save the one behind the desk where Crowl sat. That wall held three broad swords coated in the purest of black. Each one was of a different design, placed carefully so that the tip of their blades pointed down.

Beside Crowl stood an elderly woman in a habit. Her crosier distinguished her as the Abbess of the convent. There was little doubt that she was here to take Lenaria or hear their story. Perhaps both. But she was not the only addition to the group. Father Igor was also present, his trademark frown ever present.

Jugen stood at the door and Father Igor stayed seated at one of the corners, observing.

"You were found helping each other during your tests," Crowl told Ezril and Lenaria, his voice calm. "Explain yourselves."

In response, Lenaria described a fairly normal ordeal up till the point where she felt she was being watched. She told of how she survived two days on the run from her assailants before finally getting caught. Her story carried every detail and she stopped after their deaths. All the while Ezril noted no surprise amongst the adults in the room, the Abbess betrayed only the briefest anger. Her grey blonde hair was tied at the back and her daring green eyes took on a surprising glow so mild Ezril was certain of her anger.

When his turn came, Ezril told his story. He left out the old man, the ghosting he experienced with the deer, as well as Alric's involvement. He knew his omission of Alric's involvement bothered Lenaria, but her silence showed her trust in his decision.

The Monsignor and the Abbess exchanged a brief glance when he was done.

"In light of your special circumstances,” Crowl said, “we see no reason to fail you both. With that conclusion, you may leave us.” He paused. “And this does not leave this room. Sister Lenaria, the Abbess will come for you shortly."

It was an easy dismissal and they were led out the door. However, there was something in the way Crowl watched them. Ezril caught it the way the wind catches a leaf. The man knew something and was waiting. Despite the dismissal, he looked like a man giving the dying a chance.

Ezril stopped. He knows, he thought.

It was impossible to think that he did, but Ezril couldn’t shake the feeling. It was in the eyes. Crowl watched him quietly, easily. Ezril knew as deep in his bones as his very own marrow that the Monsignor knew.

Thinking better of his story, he halted his exit and turned back to face the group. Slowly, fearing what the outcome would be, he informed them of Alric's involvement. It drew the briefest surprise from the priests and the Abbess. But the Monsignor's face betrayed no emotion.

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As Ezril told them of leaving Lenaria at the shelter and what he had done, burying Alric’s remains deep in the snow, Father Igor looked at him with disgust. Father Jugen watched with caution, and the Abbess watched with pity.

"Why would you do that?" Crowl asked. If he was bothered by the tale, he did not show it. His voice was as calm of a man responding to a child’s greeting.

"It was not my intention to tell you,” Ezril replied, sparing a glance at Lenaria who was waiting and listening. “I planned to keep it a secret from everyone."

"Then what changed your mind?"

Ezril answered easily. "If I cannot trust my family,” he said, “who can I trust?"

There was no part of him that doubted his words. There was also no part of him that believed he thought the same way of the seminary. They weren’t his family, that much was true.

The walk out of the room was a quiet one. Ezril found himself not wanting to leave Lenaria to return to the convent in such a state, so he made a detour. Lenaria offered no complaints, simply following him the moment he grabbed her hand.

He led her straight to the stables.

Ezril often spent his time in the stables since joining the seminary. The first time had been when he had been sent to help Fjord on a Frostiff. He was an aficionado of shoveling dung and replacing hay, but the horses seemed to marvel him.

As big and scary as they were, they allowed Ezril groom them, and the colts sometimes prove playful while he did. For him, Ezril found grooming the horses to be surprisingly calming. So he had brought Lenaria here in hopes that it would prove the same for her.

Lenaria didn't resist when he brought her hand slowly to the head of the horse after a few strokes of the brush. She did not fear what was before her. But she was not interested in it either. Nonetheless, after Ezril stroked the horse’s hair a couple times and snuck the brush into her hand, she took to the duty of grooming it with a certain interest. For the first time since the ordeal, Ezril saw a kind of light in her eyes. He left her with the horse, unwilling to distract her growing calm, found himself a position against one of the walls, and sat there. He watched her like a hawk, attentive in case he was needed.

He stayed there for a while before a voice spoke from beside him.

"What is a sister of the convent doing in my stable?"

Ezril did not have to guess who it was. Fjord had a way of sneaking up on him and asking such questions to initiate contact: “why are you here?” … “whose horse is that?” ... “have you had your meal?” ... “are you in trouble?

Ezril never found such entrances tiring.

"Good eve', Father," he replied.

Fjord moved so that he stood before Ezril, obstructing his view of Lenaria.

Fjord was a huge, domineering man, muscled from his time spent with the horses. The hair on his hair was cut as short as a third of a finger span. Like most of the Fathers in the seminary, his eyes had a look to them. But it was not something intimidating, rather something soothing. It was as if he had seen the worst of men and it had made him appreciate the beauty of mankind more.

Ezril found long ago that he liked talking to the priest. His eyes traced where Fjord had come from. At its origin was the closed entrance to the Kennel.

"Your mate, Unkuti, brought back a wolf," Fjord said, noticing where Ezril looked. "It wouldn't obey him when it woke, so he left it behind. I told him he can come visit whenever he has the time."

"And you?" Ezril asked. "Does it listen to you?"

"No.” Fjord shook his head. “I offered it a piece of meat and the animal wouldn't even come near me. So I left a prey in its confines. Hopefully, the space won't be too small for it to hunt, and it..." Fjord paused as if realizing something. "Would you like to see it?"

Ezril shook his head before returning his gaze to Lenaria. Right now, a wolf was not his concern. Lenaria had a small smile on her face as the horse she groomed nudged her with its head.

"So, why is she here?" Fjord asked again.

"After the test she didn't look so well,” Ezril answered. “So I brought her here to help."

"Seems to be working," Fjord said and rubbed his neck. "You abuse your power,” he noted. “It is a slippery slope to do so. Do you like her that much?"

The question took Ezril by surprise. He was always free with the Father Fjord, almost always letting his guard down. But he was no fool.

"Not really,” he replied. “She is a good friend, though."

In truth, he had missed spending time with Lenaria, but he wasn't sure if he liked her the way Fjord insinuated. To him, she was family. The only presence of an old life. A life I am beginning to forget.

"I see." Fjord frowned. "But you want to protect her."

"Yes."

"You have not forgotten your duty, have you?" Fjord asked.

Ezril knew exactly what he referred to. "No, Father," he answered. Fjord gave him a searching look, and he added: "We are the Hallowed of Truth."

"And..." Njord encouraged.

"To the Credo, our life is offered,"