After taking a long nap on the beach, and walking for another half a day, Revin and Blackfire entered Sothfæder, the Hiriv capital village. Each home was a work of art, with sinuous roofs designed to drop the rainfall into collectors and arched doorways which looked like curving trees, leaning into each other. Each door was etched with images and scripts. Immaculate calligraphy of scripture verses, depictions of Sephitaro, Father God, or even just nature itself. A tree, a horse. The etchings were incredibly detailed, and some monks even painted their doors, giving the entryways a vibrant life.

Pity the monks living behind those doors were so dull.

Though plain in some ways, the monks gave everything they made the utmost attention to detail. Even their mastersuits were works of art, layers of intertwining and overlapping leather, made to absorb the blow of a resilient goat’s headbutt. Revin inspected his arm, the tiny chain links which made his suit were still intact, if a bit dirty. It had taken him almost a year to make it, each ring no larger than the nail on his pinky. The monk he had “borrowed” the weave from did not appreciate his use of it. She’d said it was for art.

It worked better for armor.

His side throbbed. And after almost a day’s hike to get back, he was ready to sleep.

“Revin!”

Telyu and Andreh approached. They were about his age. He glanced at their animal companions. A squirrel, and a tiny bird. Revin had mastered those when he was six.

“We’ve been looking all over for you!” Telyu said with exasperation. “Where were you?”

“Hunting,” Revin said.

Andreh shook her head, glaring at Blackfire in disapproval. Her bird fidgeted on her shoulder.

Blackfire growled and Revin commanded him to stay. He tried to remain patient with Andreh's judgment. "The Sephitaron doesn't say anything against hunting.”

“And I thought reading was too boring for you?" Andreh said.

“I can have more than one interest,” Revin said. "We can't all be as boring as you."

Andreh's glare deepened. “You're gonna get yourself killed before you hit thirty."

“You're not going to live before you hit thirty.”

Telyu frowned but did not interrupt. The young monk would try to find an opening, but Revin wouldn't give him one. Andreh wanted a philosophical fight, and Revin was willing to give her one today. She and the other monks liked inventing commandments.

And Revin hated few things more than made-up rules.

"Killing is wrong, the Sephitaron forbids it! And you go out killing with that beast." She motioned to Blackfire.

“Didn't Father God also create wolves?”

“To test us,” Andreh said.

“Have you even been in their heads? How about a dog? A hawk? No.” Revin motioned to the bird on Andreh’s shoulder. “You know nothing about them. You’ve just got a stupid nut-picker.”

“Don’t insult Brightling,” she snapped.

“Or is she a worm-eater?” Revin said with mock disgust, “Some birds do that. Is that ok?”

“Revin!” Telyu snapped. “The prophet’s furious! We thought the monster killed you! Your mother’s been beside herself.”

The mention of his mother hit Revin with a rush of guilt. He should have told her what he was doing. She would have disapproved, but at least she would not wonder where he was. Or if he were alive. He focused back on Telyu. “It’s a serpent, not a monster, and it’s been taken care of.”

“You’re lying,” Andreh said.

“Nope,” Revin said, “I mastered a forty-foot serpent. Just be glad I sent it away instead of bringing it home.”

Revin noticed movement by the Holy House, a large wooden building placed on the top of the hill in the center of town. A younger monk, twelve or thirteen years old, ran down the hill. Revin ignored her.

“Don’t pretend that’s why you did it!” Andreh snapped. Her bird chirped from her shoulder.

Revin clenched his fists and scowled. Freaking bird-kissers. Blackfire sensed Revin’s antagonism and growled, baring his fangs.

“Revin!” a voice shouted. It was Sovin, the Prophet’s errand-runner. Revin had been that once, not the worst job, since you got to overhear plenty of interesting conversations.

“Yes?” Revin asked.

“The prophet...” Sovin let out gasping breaths. “...wants to see you.”

“He’s gonna be furious,” Andreh said.

“Is he a prophet if he doesn’t know where I am?” Revin smirked.

“Watch it,” Andreh said, her frown deepening. “you should respect the prophet.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.” Revin turned to the errand girl, “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

He switched to Telyu. “Whatever happened to everyone thinking I was dead?” he said. “It seems the prophet expected me to return.” He glanced back at Sovin.

Telyu shrugged. “Well, the rest of us were afraid, after what happened to Werig…”

Revin frowned. Werig was one of the nicer ones. “Thanks, Telyu.”

Andreh shook her head and walked away.

“Revin?” Sovin wringed her hands. “You coming?”

Revin waived his hand. “Yes, yes, I’ll be there in a moment.”

He said goodbye to Telyu and walked up the hill toward the prophet’s office in the Holy House.

His father’s office.

✦✦✦

Revin sat in the office at the top level of the Holy House’s only tower. Thick glass made up the dome above and windows on every side. It was barely big enough to fit a desk, two chairs, and a handful of bookcases filled with the dealings of Father God with his people.

Revin had taken a scolding here more than once.

“What made you think it was such a good idea to go off alone?” Revin’s father asked, his tone serious.

“I handled it fine.” Revin leaned back, trying to look relaxed. Pain ricocheted in his ribs and arm. He tried to hide his wince.

His father raised an incredulous eyebrow. “How will your mother feel? Don’t think I didn’t notice that limp when you walked in.”

Revin frowned, wanting to cover his injuries. His mother would be very upset. “I’m fine.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“What did you break this time?” his father said.

“Nothing!” Revin said.

“Your arm. Give it.” His father grabbed at Revin’s hand.

Revin pulled his hand away. “It’s fine. Just a bruise. The serpent’s gone. Isn’t that what matters?”

“It is not what matters most!” His father slammed on his desk, causing a volume of the Sephitaron to bounce. He set his lips in a thin line, his forehead creased in exasperation. “We were just about to send out a party armored in our sturdiest mastersuits. We wanted to scare the beast off, not master it!”

“Leather mastersuits would have been useless,” Revin rolled up his sleeve to show his father the dented rings. He rolled up his mastersuit sleeve too, revealing the deep, purpling bruises, “My mastersuit is the only one strong enough to resist its fangs. I mastered it and sent it home.”

Revin’s father rubbed his temples and stood. “Revin…” His father looked out the window and toward the sky. He closed his eyes.

Revin failed to stifle a huff. This usually meant something from above. It was hard to argue with revelation.

A moment of silence passed before his father opened his eyes and turned to Revin. “You cannot allow pride to consume you.”

Revin clenched his fists until the knuckles turned white. He tightened his jaw until his teeth hurt. “Pride? I took care of it! What if I’d waited, and someone else got hurt? While you debated, I acted.” Revin pointed to the holy book on the desk, “Doesn’t the Sephitaron say: ‘better than a kind thought is a kind word, and better than a kind word is a kind deed?’ I acted while you chatted. You’ve got to admit the wisdom in that.”

Without missing a beat his father responded, “It also says, ‘A good act done thoughtless can damage like an evil act done with planning?’ I am the Prophet, do you want to argue doctrine with me, again?”

Revin had argued doctrine before, but he’d always lost. Not only did his father know the Sephitaron better forward and back, but he also received new revelation from Father God himself.

“I just wish you would be more proactive,” Revin said.

“You wish we were more like you.” His father’s gaze returned to the window, but this time he looked down towards the village.

Revin stood to catch what his father was looking at, following his gaze. Not too far away was the graveyard. A new plot had been dug, and soon Werig, the young monk who had been killed by the serpent, would be buried there. Revin’s chest clenched. If only he had been there… He could have stopped it. Mastered the serpent then and there…

“Father God does not intend to stop all suffering my son.”

Revin looked at the hole in the earth. He’d seen Werig’s mother’s face when they’d found the body.

“Revin, your heart is in the right place, but you lead when you should follow, you speak when you should listen. You fight the boundaries set around you. Your achievements make you arrogant and dissatisfied. You defend those who need defense, yet you also contend with those who have no real quarrel with you.”

Revin tried again not to roll his eyes.

His father turned to Revin and frowned. “Revin, you have flaws, but also many strengths. The council worries about you. As do I. Not just as the prophet, but as your father.”

There were many years of hard-earned wisdom in his father’s eyes. Age and experience did not make someone right. Anything not in a new revelation or the Sephitaron was up for debate.

“Work with us. I’d rather have the council trusting you.”

“What does it matter what the council thinks of me?” Revin said.

“It matters if you want your petition to leave to be heeded. We don’t think you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready for years!” Revin sat up.

His father shook his head. “You’re irresponsible, dangerous, and not a little over-confident. And your recent… rebellions have only exaggerated that. We were about to deny your request.”

Revin paused. “About to?”

His father let out a sigh. “Regardless of what I think, Father God has spoken. He has told me that now is your time. You may learn the Lord ordination ceremonies and, if you wish, leave the island.”

Revin’s eyes opened wide.

“The others think we should punish you for going after the creature alone, but the trials of the world will humble you enough.”

His father’s face condensed into a worried frown, but Revin smiled. He could finally leave! Find a Lord! Multiply his powers! He could see the world, make a difference in it. Be someone important.

“Your pride will destroy you if you let it. Crotello wants your soul. Remember, pride was also his weakness.”

Revin only half-listened at this point. He could explore new lands, filled with great beasts to master, warriors and kings and castles. Let others interpret his confidence as pride if they wanted, but his confidence would grant him the adventures he so craved. “So, you’ll teach me the words?”

His father let out a sigh and nodded. “Yes.”

Revin readied himself to memorize every word.

The Prophet of the Hiriv took a deep breath, calling on the powers given him by the prophet before. He locked gazes with Revin. “By the power of Sephitaro given to man, I confer the connection of Trial-Lord, you shall be my Lord, until you or I pass from this world or until you or I decide that you are not.”

His father had Revin repeat the words multiple times. “You must pronounce this exactly, every word. You must burn it in your mind before you leave, you cannot write them.”

Revin nodded. His father continued.

“Place both hands on their head before you say the words. Once you’re done, he will become your Trial-Lord, his people yours to serve. You will be able to mindspeak to each other, and your power in Mastery will increase as much as you align your wills.”

Revin nodded again. “And what are the words to make someone my Life-Lord?”

The seriousness in his father’s face increased. “You cannot make the choice of a Life-Lord lightly. It is the most important decision of your life. You must choose the candidate with the utmost care. It’ll have a greater impact on your life than even the choice of who you marry.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Revin blurted.

“Revin!” his father snapped, “You must be careful. Do not choose a Lord who exercises unrighteous dominion. You must choose a Lord who is compassionate, who has good goals and pure motivations. Who cares for his people.”

His father let out a sigh, “Do you know why so many who seek a Lord return here, masterless?”

The question confused Revin. “Their masters died?” Few monks who returned spoke of their time in the west.

His father shook his head. “No. Many of them return only a few years after they’d left. Some returned because they could not find a Lord at all. Others returned because their masters turned out to be cruel men, hungry for power and lovers of blood and violence. Those monks returned because they knew the cost of their poor choice. They chose not to use their powers at all rather than use them for a corrupt person.”

“But I see many people controlling animals-”

“Those are the ones that didn’t find a Lord, Revin. Think about Gendral, Teradith, or even Master Rinviv on the prophet’s council, have you ever seen any of them with an animal companion?”

His father was right, he had not. He shook his head in answer.

“Exactly. Their masters turned out to be corrupt. They wanted our brethren to use their animals for evil. Few find a Lord and stay in the western lands, and even most of those return in their later years.

“Over time, fewer and fewer monks have left. We have a good life here, free from strife. Not all monks want the power which comes with a Lord. Do you want to risk choosing a poor master and losing your gift altogether?”

Revin pondered. He considered himself more discerning than his other monks. He could see the good in those that other people condemned, and he saw the hypocrisy in those that claimed to be good. This was his next challenge. More animals. Bigger animals. He wanted it more than anything else in the world.

“Yes.”

His father nodded. “Then I must reiterate, you must respect this gift. Father God gave us this power, and for some reason I cannot remotely understand, he wants you to be given the freedom to unlock it. Only this remains of the ancient powers. No more do men control the elements or read others’ minds. Respect it, please.”

His father looked up to the sky again and closed his eyes. “The world is changing.” He looked to Revin, “And I don’t know what those changes will be.”

Revin nodded, even though he had no idea what his father was talking about. The Hiriv were still boring and sleepy. As always. And if the world were changing? Even more reason to see it.

“Now,” his father said, “the words to ordain someone to be your Life-Lord. ‘By the power of Sephitaro given to man, I confer the connection of Life-Lord. You shall be my Lord, until you decide you are not, or one of us passes from this world. We shall be connected in mind, and by the unity of our wills we will be connected in power until the end of our days. And may our wills be one, and one with Father God’s. Thus, it is.’”

They ran through these words more times than the first. “Keep practicing. Know them better than your own name.”

“I have all the other ceremonies memorized,” Revin said, smirking.

“And you’ve had years to practice those, these you won’t have as much time.” His father leaned in again.

“Protect this as you would your own life. Do not lay roses before bulls.”

Revin nodded. He glanced up at the ancient sword which hung above the bookshelf. The three-foot blade’s dark gray metal glistened, black sheath sitting on a rack below it. Revin used to polish that blade when he was the prophet’s errand-boy. His father had said the sword was a symbol of what the Hiriv monks left behind. A symbol of violence. They chose isolation to protect themselves instead.

Revin thought it was a symbol of adventure.

“When can I go?” Revin said.

His father sighed. “Once you have the ceremonies memorized enough to speak them in the middle of a rainstorm a month after you last spoke them aloud. You may not write them. And you need to memorize the maps, kingdoms, and languages of the western continent.”

Revin smiled. He’d already studied it extensively. Vast nations with mighty cities. Fields, plains, forests, and mountains filled with great mammoths, tigers and wolves bigger than wagons, giant eagles, and a plethora more creatures. A land of possibility. He was sure he could get those ceremonies memorized quick.

“Son,” his father placed a hand on Revin’s shoulder, pulling Revin out of his daydream, “you cannot let this world consume you. If you find a Lord, you could stay there for the rest of your life.”

He had no real friends, Telyu was kind, but he was kind to everyone. He thought of the monk’s ideal life, a simple one of tending a garden, mastering easy animals, reading scripture, and sitting quietly.

That could not be his fate.

“As long as I can go,” Revin said, “It doesn’t matter where.”