In the month of Marten, third of the year, Ezril and his brothers took to the horse under the tutelage of Njord. He proved adept at understanding the animals and possessed an in-depth experience with the skill. But while he was a skilled instructor, he seemed to favor the safety of the horses over the lives of the brothers. Ezril had also been given the task of walking the Atle wolf Unkuti had brought back from his test of winter ever since it began accepting the pieces of meat it left for him.
Njord claimed there was a connection between Ezril and the Atle wolf, one that existed between Atle wolves and the masters they chose. He claimed it had something to do with character and a connection of nin. However, his reason for believing this worried Ezril greatly as Njord let him know that apart from Brandis Algon there was no known record of an Atle wolf befriending a Hallowed.
Regardless, the Atle wolf was the first ever thing Ezril named, and he called it Shade.
The horses presented to Ezril and his brothers were stallions no older than two years. Njord oversaw the pairing. He observed as they picked their mounts from the stalls. Olbi opting for a chestnut which somehow looked graceful earned himself a slap to the back of the head from the priest, something they learned in time was his choice of correction.
“You are too big for a horse that size,” Njord told him. “It’s not about beauty. It’s about what can bear your weight.”
He then led him to a strong, ill-tempered, ugly horse. Ezril smiled at Olbi’s reaction to his new mount. In truth, Ezril had been looking forward to the day. His occasional visits to the stables afforded him knowledge of the horses.
While Olbi’s mount was ill-tempered and prone to offering a baptism of spittle, Takan’s was a dark brown, with a propensity for bullying smaller horses. Unkuti’s was a dirty brown with splotches of white on its side. It had a black mane, and a white line running down the middle of its head, from mane to snout.
Olufemi stood before a horse, black as night. The only other color to stain it was the white mark just above each hoof. He studied the horse with a scrutiny that reminded Ezril of how the priests had watched them when they first walked into the seminary. Olufemi was searching, and Ezril found himself waiting in anticipation of what would transpire. There was a part of him that hoped his brother would move on to the next horse. Before too long Olufemi looked from the horse to Ezril and moved along.
Did he know? Ezril wondered.
Ezril walked over to the stall. He lifted his hand to the horse’s head and the horse met his open hand halfway. In some way it reminded him of Dainty. There was a warmth to its touch, granting him a false sense of trust. Ezril felt a connection with this horse simply because he had been present at its birth.
The horse Olufemi chose in the end was nothing like those in the stable. Ezril had been present when it had been dragged into the stable, stomping and braying, snapping at whoever was too close. In the simplest of explanations, it was wild.
Olufemi rubbed its head, and while it didn’t fight against his touch, it did naught to encourage it.
“I will leave them to your command,” Njord told Ezril. “Show them how to care for the horses today. I will be in the kennel should any problems arise.”
With those words, Njord was done with them.
Ezril showed his brothers the appropriate manner in which their horses were to be groomed. He soon found himself spending half the time with his brothers, making corrections where necessary.
“Groomed a horse before, brother?” he asked Salem, as the brother needed no assistance grooming his mount.
Salem’s reply was a dismissive nod, sending him on his way.
Olufemi displayed a natural understanding of his mount, grooming it with a care Ezril did not know the brother capable of. Ezril’s stay in the seminary afforded him sight of a great many things, but Olufemi’s horse staying silent and non-disruptive while being groomed had not been one of them until this moment.
Where he saw it as a feat, Olufemi’s expression was set in one of disinterest. It was as if he was doing a task he was already bored of.
The morrow saw them riding under Njord’s instructions. While Ezril had spent the most time in the stables of all his brothers, Njord had not allowed him mount any of the horses. Instead, he gave specific instructions not to name them, or spend too much time with them.
Olufemi took to the horse as he did the wild. Salem came a distant second. They rode for eight weeks doing naught much else save the practice of the sword with Father Talod, while Ezril engaged in the bow with Sister Ellenel on their respective days.
Mounted archery was but another chance for Ezril to flaunt his skill with the bow, hitting every target on his first day regardless of what proved to be a barely above mediocre skill of riding. Njord allocated a portion of the forest just beyond the south gate and past the mist for their riding lessons. There they practiced, riding amidst trees and obstacles.
In time they were given leave to name their horses, and Ezril came to understand why Njord had stopped him from doing so.
“Most priests deem it fit to name their horse,” he told them. “It helps in deepening the bond they share.”
While his brothers displayed creativity in the naming of their steeds, Unkuti choosing to call his, Skyline, a few proved less impressive than others. Olufemi opted for something simpler. While in the command of the brother, the horse was naught more than an angry creature. It showed no love for the other brothers, standing against Olbi’s bigger horse, seeming to bully it when they crossed paths.
“Wild, does not like to be intimidated,” Olufemi said to Ezril after the horse had almost bitten off the ear of one of the other horses.
Ezril liked to think his brother named it Wild simply because it was wild.
Ezril chose to name his horse Apparit. It was born on a night when his dreams had chased him out into the darkness of the seminary night.
He had come upon the stables that night to find it lit with the presence of candle light and a particularly pain filled braying of a horse. Closer inspection found him witnessing its birth at the hands of three priests. At first sight it reminded him of Dainty without its strength and only a vulnerability the horse had never shown. He had been so entranced that he hadn’t known when he walked into the stable. For it Father Talod had given him a whipping that left him unable to lie on his back for days.
“You seem to understand Wild almost too well, brother,” He told Olufemi one evening.
They were beyond the east gate walking the Shade as Njord had Ezril do on varying evenings ever since it had started eating the pieces of meat he left for it.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“It’s only an animal,” Olufemi replied, rubbing the wolf behind its ears. “Every Hallowed possesses an understanding of one. And I’ve always been good with animals.”
Ezril watched his brother. It was often amusing watching him with the wolf. The brothers of the seminary proved wary of the beast. The priests seemed on guard whenever Ezril walked it within the seminary walls. However, Olufemi was cautious but not wary and the wolf was mostly quiet in his presence. Its occasional growls were reserved for Father Talod whenever he offered Ezril the condescending stares he most often favored him with. In time, the priest learned to keep his gaze for the absence of the wolf.
At first Ezril’s brothers kept their distance. It was understandable, if not advisable. But after constant assurances that Shade would not bite, they succumbed to petting the furry beast with slight back rubs, something they did more from a sense to beat their fears than a belief in Ezril’s words.
Olufemi, however, was an exception. He took a liking to the beast. He often accompanied them on their walks. Shade showed no specific dislike towards his presence, and while he displayed no excitement at it, he played freely with him, often regarding the brother with a confused gaze.
“Why Shade?” Olufemi asked Ezril. Shade was standing on its hind legs while Olufemi supported it by holding up its front legs with his hands.
Ezril considered his answer for the briefest moment before giving it.
“Last winter I brought him out for a walk,” he said. “He saw a snow hare and gave chase. He was so fast I barely saw him move. Thought I’d lost him. I looked for him as far as Njord permitted. When I didn’t find him, I came back, and he was just there, in the mist, looking at me like I was the one that had run away.”
Olufemi had one of the wolf’s paw in his palm while it sat. “That doesn’t explain the name,” he said.
Ezril shrugged. “With the mist around it, it looked like a Shade.”
Olufemi tilted his head to the side in confusion. “A shade?”
“Yes,” Ezril nodded. “You know, like a spirit or a wraith. A shade.”
“Oh.”
Shades were a controversial topic in the kingdom. Its history told of people who claimed they had seen their departed loved ones hovering in the air. They always described them to have taken a form where the edge of their skin blew with the wind. The church had called them Shades, souls of the departed returning to the bosom of Truth.
Many doubted it, specifically those who had never seen it. If such a thing really existed, Ezril was one of those who had never seen one.
“I saw a Shade once,” Olufemi said, his attention never leaving the wolf. “’Twas my ma. We had committed her to the fire two days before it happened.”
Ezril hid his surprise. Like most of his brothers, Olufemi didn’t speak of his family. But his was different, it was almost as though he had never had one to begin with. It left the boys often speculating if he’d probably been born in the wild and was the reason he was so good in the wild.
Ezril waited for Olufemi to continue and after a while the boy did. “My gran was the only one who believed me. No one else. My pa said she had been gone too long ago and there was no way ‘twas her. Said I was seeing things.” Olufemi looked at him, and Ezril knew he was about to share in a secret. “She said my name, brother. She tried to warn me of something. No one would’ve believed me so I spoke nothing of what she tried to warn me about.”
Of course they wouldn’t, Ezril thought, Shades cannot communicate with the living. The Credo teaches so.
When did you begin to put much Credo in the word of the Credo, a voice in his head challenged him.
“What did she tell you, brother?” he asked.
Olufemi remained silent and Ezril knew the story was ended. He would get no answers on it from him.
Shade stared at Olufemi, and Ezril wondered if the wolf had an idea of what had just transpired. He had heard wolves and dogs could sense human emotions. Maybe Shade sensed his brother’s.
“The priests asked you a question when you came to the seminary, brother,” Ezril said, hoping to change the topic. He had heard that most of the brothers had been asked questions before the priests that had brought them to the seminary had taken them. Urden had asked him a question, too, but it had been so inconsequential and without ceremony that Ezril had never even thought of it. To him it had been a simple, if odd, exchange of words.
Olufemi nodded. “Father Ulrich asked me what I saw when I closed my eyes, we were at the wolf gate. I told him patches of green and hues of pink.” He spared Ezril a glance. “What of you, brother?”
“The priest that found me asked which way Vayla turned.”
Olufemi’s brows creased in puzzlement. “Which way did she turn?”
Ezril shrugged. “I just pointed in the direction I felt.”
Olufemi sighed. When he spoke again, his voice carried something ominous with it.
“You know that not all of us are Hallowed, brother. I hear the priests talk of it,” he said rubbing Shade behind the ear. “The priests who bring us aren’t always right. Sometimes they make a mistake and bring in a Tainted or a normal child. In time there will be a test that reveals it. Any who fail will be shown the gate. There is no place for one that is not Hallowed in the seminary. Only a Hallowed can become a priest.”
It was no secret in the seminary. All the brothers underwent a test before being brought to its walls. However, no priest could be entirely certain that the child that passed his would grow to become a Hallowed. Mistakes were not unknown to happen.
Am I Hallowed? Ezril asked himself. The events of the winter test slithered through his mind. I have to be Hallowed.
Urden crossed his mind.
Or is that why he adopted me? Because he knew I may not be Hallowed?
The night grew dark. Ezril rose to his feet watching Olufemi. His thoughts continued to plague him. He gave it no attention. Olufemi had Shade rolling in the dirt. Ezril chuckled at the sight. It was genuine. It came from a true place of happiness. But it was not enough. It was merely a drop of water in an ocean of doubt. As quickly as it came, it was corrupted.
“What?” Olufemi asked.
Ezril shrugged. “Only you would teach an Atle wolf tricks, brother.”
Shade abandoned Olufemi and the dirt and bounded towards Ezril. The force of its impact against him had Ezril’s back on the floor. It licked his face, almost drowning him in spittle.
“Is that what it looked like in your eyes, brother?” Olufemi pondered for a moment. “I see.”
Ezril gave Olufemi’s words no import. Something told him he should. It would’ve been easy, like parting sand to find the firm layer beneath. Still, he didn’t.
He rose to his feet, walking into the mist and towards the seminary’s gate. Shade followed steadily beside him. It was a friendly animal, jumping in joy at his presence like a little pup whenever he came to take it for a walk. It made it easy to forget how truly dangerous it was. But Ezril was often wary of it. Often, he would find its eyes fixed on him, as if expecting something of him.
A while later they were within the seminary walls and inside the stable. The stable was lit by candle light when they returned to it.
Olufemi stopped at the entrance to the kennel, returning to their room when Ezril led Shade into it. The Kennel held the low sound of steady breaths and the occasional whimpering of animals. In earlier days Ezril would have had to lead it into its confines. Now it walked in of its own volition.
Ezril offered it a piece of meat. When he was certain it had licked whatever was left of it from his hand, he watched it fall asleep.
Turning to leave, he stopped at the exit.
Which way does Vayla turn? He wondered.
Even now it seemed a confused question. Yet, in its confusion it held complete certainty. Letting out a low breath, he let everything wash over him. The sounds of all the animals. The rhythm of steady breathing. He indulged in an old trick he had used as a child to calm himself whenever he was scared or confused.
He felt all of his emotions. Rage. Love. Sadness. Happiness. They were hollow. But they were there. His vision blurred. The dizziness hit him. Everything spun around him and his footing wobbled, almost giving way. He closed his eyes against the mild ache in his head as it all happened. He seemed to have done something wrong, perhaps he had forgotten the trick since he hadn’t used it for so long.
The kennel was quiet when Ezril returned his attention to the present. Not even the breathing of the animals could be heard. It was as though they tried not to be noticed, as if a predator was present.
The hair on his neck stood and he spared Shade a glance. The wolf lay in its confines, its eyes, a piercing blue, shined in the dark. Watching. Assessing… Expecting.
Ezril shook his head, banishing whatever was left of the dizziness that held him. Ignoring the eyes he knew still watched him, he left the kennel.
……………………………
Ezril and his brothers’ skills on the horse were tested in the eight months they rode. The test was without ceremony. Njord set up a course they were to traverse, as he did on every evening, and upon its completion awarded them their result.
“You all pass the test of mount,” he told them. His voice held mild satisfaction. They would have been stupid to believe it existed for their abilities. No. Anyone with half a brain knew he was satisfied because he would be rid of them.
For this test there had been no sense of accomplishment. Even the relief of having passed one of the seminary’s test proved evasive.