The bowstring snapped a second time and Timi couldn’t fit it back. It had broken. It was the third one he’d broken since they’d come here.

Seth and his brothers sat in the darkness of the hall they had once practiced the use of the bow under Emriss. The night was deep, and should any priest learn of their absence from their room there could be hell to pay. They knew this even as they’d left their room.

Timi, Forlorn, Fin and Jason sat together, huddled around a simple glowing orb filled with the light from tens of fireflies trapped within. They had no idea where Forlorn had stolen it from and no one cared to ask. All that mattered was the soft green glow it grazed them with.

Ahead of them, standing on their feet, Seth and Barnabas engaged in a quiet and unspoken game. The muffled thud of arrows as they struck their targets, like a man grunting under heavy blows with his mouth sealed, filled the room. It was the seductive enemy of the night’s silence.

Barnabas drew back his bowstring and let another arrow fly.

They waited for a beat for a sound that never came. Seth smirked and drew his bow string back, arrow notched.

“How are you even doing that, Seth?” Jason asked.

Seth let his arrow fly and the sound of it hitting his target echoed softly.

Barnabas notched another arrow, took aim, and pulled back on his bow string and Seth took the time to answer his brother.

“He’s doing the exact same thing,” he said.

“Yes. But he has skills that allow him see in the dark.”

“Not really,” Barnabas answered before releasing his arrow. He looked at Seth. “Scores?”

Forty-eight to Thirty-nine.

“In whose favor?” Seth asked, even though he knew the answer.

“No,” Barnabas disagreed, shaking his head. “You and I are the ones having this conversation.”

“What do you mean?” Seth asked.

“I mean.” Barnabas stepped close to him, maybe too close, then poked him in the chest. “I’m talking with you and you’re talking with me.”

“I know,” he agreed, growing uncomfortable with how close his brother was. He wasn’t sure if it was the physical intrusion of his space or just having someone taller than him that close. It made him have to tilt his head to meet their eyes and he didn’t like it.

Short people problems, a mind mocked him.

A frown touched his lips and Barnabas scowled at him.

“There you go again,” he complained. He turned away from Seth, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “We’re two guys talking and you keep ignoring me.” He turned to Seth and pointed an arrow held in his hand at him. “For just one night can you just pretend you don’t have voices in your head.”

“I don’t have voices in my head.”

Barnabas turned to their brothers, tired. In the dark Seth watched him gesture dramatically at him like a circus act presenting something unbelievable.

“Tell me this doesn’t bother you, Timilehin,” he pleaded.

Can we just point out that Forlorn’s frown’s been there a bit too long, a mind pointed out.

Seth turned his eyes discreetly in time to see Timi shrug. On a by note, his mind was right. Forlorn had the most annoyed scowl on his face. It was a scowl he’d seen on William’s face a few times when someone looked at Beth the ‘wrong’ way.

Barnabas turned away from their brothers with a sigh. “Of course it doesn’t bother you. It’s the same way your constant rumors don’t bother him.”

Seth shook his head, chuckling. Barnabas should’ve known by now he wouldn’t get much out of Timi.

He nocked another arrow taken from the quiver at his hip, took aim, and waited. The targets were over fifty paces away, too far for him or his minds to see clearly enough in this darkness. But this was training for him. He took all the pieces of information he could to estimate the position of all three targets. The game was to hit any of them. He drew back on the bow string and let the arrow fly.

He missed.

I think we’re getting better at this.

Seth shook his head in disagreement.

Barnabas huffed in annoyance, stepped forward forcefully and fired his arrow. The sound of his success filled the air very quickly.

“Does anyone ever wonder what really happened to Josiah?” Jason asked, out of nowhere.

Fin looked at him curiously. “That’s quite the out of place question, brother.”

Jason shrugged. There was something gloomy about the action.

Seth nocked another arrow and aimed. “Not really.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Fin said without accusation. “It doesn’t bother you if it has nothing to do with Timilehin.”

Beside Jason, Timi grunted like a proud guerilla.

There’s no way he’s only eating what they give us at the dining, one of Seth’s minds thought. He’s outgrown even Fin.

“There’s nothing to wonder,” Forlorn said. “He failed the test.”

“But he evolved to Iron,” Jason disagreed. “The test was evolution, and he evolved.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a proper evolution,” Barnabas offered as Seth missed again.

“There’s no such thing as an improper evolution,” Forlorn said. “Especially when it comes to Iron. Your convergent skill could be the ability to fall asleep and it’s still a proper evolution to Iron.”

“Oh.” The word came out of Barnabas filled with realization and confusion. It made it difficult to tell if the boy actually got it.

“Doesn’t matter, though,” Forlorn said. “He failed and got expelled.”

“No one gets expelled from the seminary,” Fin grumbled. “Not the way you say it.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

That drew everyone’s attention. It wasn’t that they did not know this, they simply never voiced it. It was like Forlorn and Barnabas relationship. Every one knew of it, knew what it was, but no one spoke of it. It would be easy to claim it was because the seminary frowned upon it, but it wasn’t the reason. They simply didn’t speak of it because some things weren’t spoken of.

But now that Fin had said it, there was no stopping it.

Barnabas was the first to speak. “The only seminarians that don’t get ordained are the ones that die.”

“And we never saw Josiah die,” Fin finished.

Jason raised his head from the orb he’d been staring at, still, the green of the orb danced in his deep blue eyes like fire. “We never saw Silver fang die either,” he said.

“Or Salem,” Forlorn added, a growing realization creeping up on them.

“Or Bart,” Fin added.

“Or Borriovani,” Seth muttered.

How many of them do you think are really dead? One of his minds asked.

Seth pulled back another arrow and fired into the darkness. He found he wasn’t eager to speak of death tonight. Perhaps not even at all. The thought of it reminded him of Tao Mei’s empty eyes.

He notched another arrow even though it wasn’t his turn and fired. Beside him Barnabas looked at him in confusion.

“You good?” Barnabas asked.

Seth nodded.

“But it wasn’t your turn.”

“And you have over a ten-point lead over me,” Seth answered. “I’d say I lost long ago.”

Barnabas chuckled. “You’re a good sport.” He paused to unstrap the quiver at his hip then dropped it off to the side. When he was done, he returned his attention to Seth. “But how are you so good?”

“Practice,” he answered easily. “I can’t count how many long range shots I took during my pastoral year.”

“You played support?” Forlorn asked, surprised.

Seth caught his brother’s cautious glance in Timi’s direction after that but said nothing on it. instead, he nodded. “I did.”

We think he’s terrified of our brother, a mind thought.

And with good reason, another thought.

“Support isn’t ever a good position,” Forlorn said. “Unless your skills are long range. And yours aren’t.”

“They were silver authority.”

“Why?” Jason asked.

“All of them?” Fin asked at the same time.

Seth nodded as he unstrapped his quiver and set it aside. “All five of them.”

“Where they, like, weak Silvers?” Forlorn asked, skeptical.

Seth took a moment to think on it. He wouldn’t say they were necessarily weak. Jim made them seem weak when compared to the other silver adventurers he served as a benefactor to. And there were certainly stronger adventurers at the fissure nest. But to call them weak was not accurate. They were… mediocre.

“Not neccesarily,” he answered. “There were stronger Silvers than them.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that they were silver,” Fin said. He was angry, displeased the seminary had forced one of his brothers to serve amongst those of higher authority. “You should not have.”

Yet we did, one of Seth’s minds thought. So can someone tell mister I’m gonna be your leader to shut his mouth?

Seth shrugged. “It was alright.”

“It’s no wonder you came back still Iron,” Forlorn said.

It seemed it was his turn to draw everyone’s attention. Their expressions varied slightly, but surprise held them all together.

He looked at them confused. “What?”

Barnabas was the one to answer him. “I don’t think you’ve ever been understanding of Seth in anyway.”

Forlorn frowned. “I hate the boy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“Oh.”

“I only got worse on him because he’d been given the chance to grow and couldn’t even get past Iron after also taking so long to get to Iron.” Forlorn cracked his knuckles, clearly in a need to do something with his hands before he went on. “If he played support with a group of silver with no ranged skill, then he clearly used a gun. Seeing how good he is with a gun it’s an easy bet. And everyone knows you can’t get stronger if you’re only killing reia beasts with a gun.”

Fin turned a worry gaze on Forlorn. “That’s a lot of understanding, brother. Should we be worried?”

“Don’t get me wrong, brothers,” he said, getting up to approach Seth as he addressed him. “You’re annoying, and proud, and self-righteous. Sometimes you’re even less, and I take it as my job to re…” he trailed off, sparing Timi a hesitant glance.

Timi’s eyes somehow encompassed him and Seth, however, Seth signaled his brother to calm.

Seeing it, Forlorn went on speaking until he stood before Seth. “But as horrible as you are, you have your moments. Your talents. For instance, you’re competing against someone who can see in the dark in a game of target practice. In the dark. I might not like it, but it doesn’t mean I cannot acknowledge it.”

“How many times do I have to say I don’t see in the dark?!” Barnabas protested.

Forlorn turned to him momentarily. “Then how are you doing that?” he gestured into the darkness where the targets hid.

“My skills allow me sense where things are in the dark,” Barnabas explained gladly. “It’s, like, if I close my eyes, I still know where your hand is supposed to be, and your head, and your leg.” He stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on Forlorn’s chest. “And your heart.”

There was a brief pause as he met Forlorn’s eyes.

“Barnabas, brother,” Jason interrupted. “Forlorn was just rearranging the alignment of the stars and being nice to Seth. Don’t steal the moment.”

Barnabas dropped his hand awkwardly and looked away, embarrassed.

Seth thought little of it. His minds thought a lot of it.

We think we liked it better when they did that away from where we could see them, one snorted.

We don’t talk for all of us, another protested. We think it’s actually sweet.

And we think we’re gonna barf.

“The point I’m trying to make…” Forlorn cleared his throat. “Is that you’re a strong Iron. I’ve done what I’ve done since we returned because you were weak when you shouldn’t have been. You’re a seminarian,” he gestured at the rest of them, “like all of us. That you couldn’t become Silver was insulting, not just to the seminary but to us. But I understand now. And while I don’t think I’ll ever stop hating you, understand that I can at least forgive you for still being Iron.”

“That was—”

“Now,” Forlorn interrupted Jason with a raised hand, “that doesn’t mean anything will change. I still think you’re a stain on the seminary. But out there, it’s us against them. And know I’ll gut a gold before I let anyone belittle a brother for being Iron.”

“That was nice of you, brother,” Seth replied. “But why a gold? You should aim higher. Gut a Baron.”

Forlorn scowled. “Don’t push it.”

Then he turned away and headed back to the green orb.

Seth smiled softly. Maybe he’s not all bad, a mind thought.

Another replied, don’t be stupid. That a lion may sometimes ask a human for help doesn’t make it any less dangerous.

“Is Forlorn the lion in this analogy?” Seth asked.

Yes.

Barnabas sighed as he joined their brothers around the orb. “Are we really okay with this?” he asked. “Shouldn’t we be finding a way to help him stop?”

“Do you have any ideas?” Fin asked and Barnabas looked away. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m just saying…” Barnabas hesitated. “Where I served, there were stories of a mage that talked to himself a lot.”

“And?” Forlorn asked, bored.

“Let me finish,” Barnabas snapped at him, then composed himself. “According to the story, he tried to evolve to Barony but couldn’t.”

“A lot of people can’t evolve to Barony, brother,” Jason said.

“Yes. But in his own case, he ran mad before he could. He went on a killing spree talking to more than just himself. It took three gold mages to bring him down.”

That was one angry motherfu—

Language, a mind interrupted. But he was strong. Three golds. How many Irons do you think they’ll need to put us down?

“Four,” Seth answered.

“See,” Barnabas sighed. “There he goes again.”

“Barnabas, I don’t talk to myself. I have a lot of thoughts and some simply come out vocally. It’s a mental discipline issue. One I never bothered to pay any attention to.”

“What if the gold mages had the same issue?”

Seth shrugged. “Then I guess gold is the end for me.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, brother. None of us would wish that on you.”

“And none of us should still be outside,” Fin added. “It’ll soon be that time when John comes for us.” He got to his feet and dusted his cassock. “I don’t want to know what he’ll do when he gets to the room and doesn’t see us.”

Each of them nodded hurriedly, rising to their feet with a touch of trepidation.

They filed out of the hall casually, Seth and Barnabas not bothering to arrange their quiver or bows. In their defense, whatever group had the training of the bow at sunrise would deal with it.

At the exit, Forlorn slipped the green orb back into his cassock and the light died out. They lined themselves up one person behind the other and placed a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them. Barnabas stood at the lead in sucked in a deep breath.

Behind him, Fin said, “We’re counting on you, brother?”

“Thanks,” Barnabas answered sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to be pressured.”

Behind Fin, Forlorn chuckled and Jason slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Timi’s hold on Seth’s shoulder tightened mildly. There was a quiet anticipation in the very action. Seth said nothing on it. It was an anticipation he felt in all of them. In Barnabas it came with a touch of fear.

It couldn’t be held against anyone. After all, who wouldn’t feel this way on such a night.

“We best hurry,” Forlorn said. “Best not to get caught today of all days. I’ll like to enter the crack without having to be punished before it.”

Yes, Seth thought in one of his rare moments. The world cracks today.

His left arm trembled at the thought.