"What devilry is this?" Protector Haar asked, approaching the darkness on his grey courser. The horse snorted, smelling something foul, and he pulled up short of the wall of shadow in the forest. It was like a curtain of night waiting for him to draw it aside and step in. His hand went to his chest where the Anam stone was embedded in his sternum. Under his black hardened leather armor the Anam gave him no indication of danger. It was as silent as the forest around him. It was too silent. He could hear a breeze blowing through the canopy of leaves above, and he felt it at the back of his head through his short cropped hair. It felt like the wind was pushing him forward. The darkness beckoned him.

Kaptein Berro pulled up beside him, and he could hear every crunch of the dry leaves on the forest floor. The sound seemed amplified, too loud, threatening to wake whatever slept here. “None who enters here returns,” Berro said. Haar turned his head and gave Berro a stern look. "That's what the stories say." Berro reddened, and turned away from the Protector’s stare which made him more uncomfortable than the smoky veil before him.

“Are you frightened of campfire stories, Kaptein?"

"No, Protector.” Haar didn't think Berro sounded sure of himself. The other ten Sacred Warriors of the Waarheid faith stopped several paces behind them, mounted, ready and waiting. Over their armor, they wore the dark grey tunic of the order, embroidered with bright white thread. The tunic bore a circle, half white, half black, with two swords crossed over in the center; the sacred symbol of the Protectors of the Waarheid faith. Some wore swords at their sides and others on their backs. Some had short bows with quivers full of black and white arrows. Protector Haar felt trepidation and anticipation in their silence. Eemil rode up next to him on the other side, a young man that The Most Holy Pai Marbach had sent with them. He was not one of them. He was young, without armor, unarmed, and was there to assist. He was not sure how. Pai Marbach had not been forthcoming on that point when they set out. He was anxious to see what the young man could do. Eemil’s face looked pale, more like prey than anything useful. He wasn’t sure the boy would even enter the shadow with them.

He raised his voice. “Men, this is an illusion. A mirage meant to scare away intruders." Then to himself he said, “We of the Waarheid faith do not scare so easily.”

It was like an illusion. It looked as if a thick storm cloud was above, blocking out the sunlight. He could see that the wall was a thin grey mist, and beyond it, the same thick forest they traveled through went on. The darkness was hiding something. We will take what you are hiding. Once through, it would be no different from riding in the night.

Eemil moved his horse closer, and turned his head slightly. Haar thought he looked like a dog that heard a high pitched whistle. "Can you hear it?" Eemil whispered. Haar narrowed his eyes, listening. There was nothing. Just the faint sound of the wind in the trees above. Looking closer, he noticed that wisps of darkness pulsed out from the wall, tiny grey tendrils that dissolved in the sunlight. The veil extended upward above the trees and left and right as far as he could see. Then, in the silence, he heard whispering. What he thought was leaves rustling above was actually a constant whisper of voices. “Yes, I hear it," he answered.

Digging his heels into his courser, he drew closer. As if sensing his approach, a ghostly hand reached out toward him. On the tip of one of the fingers was a sparkle of light. He watched, unafraid and fascinated, and as it touched his chest the holy Anam stone began to hum. The whispering abruptly cut off. It was in my mind. It is a mind trick. My Anam will protect us.

"Pai Marbach said to ride to the center. To ride quickly toward the light…"

"And you will lift this darkness," Haar finished for Eemil, staring ahead.

Eemil paused, and swallowed hard. "I will."

Raising his hand up high in a fist, he signaled his men to draw swords. They drew them as one. Protector Haar drew a deep breath and cried, "For the one true faith.”

"We live. We serve. We die.” They answered, and plunged into the shadow.

The Vyrion monastery smelled of damp stone and rotting wood. The classroom was stifling during Summer afternoon Faith lessons, and the young children looked like wilted flowers that had gone too long without fresh water. Wooden benches were arranged in neat rows with spacing between them, yet all the children stood on the stone floor. Many wore no shoes. Ailish stood in the back of the room watching Sia Riada teach the children. Sia Riada held a long thin wand at her side and Ailish watched the woman’s fingers caress the smoothness of the wood. Supposedly, it was a privilege to assist the head Sia, or holy sister. For Ailish, it was torture.
 

A boy of eight years stood in front of Sia Riada facing the rest of the children. He was skinny boy with mousy brown hair and dark eyebrows. Sia Riada touched him on the shoulder with wand and the boy flinched. “You may begin,” Sia Riada said.

“There is one true god, Erus.” the boy said. “The One God is my mother and father.” Sia Riada swung the wand striking the child across the ear.

“Father and mother,” Sia Riada corrected. “Father and mother. Again.” Ailish clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to take the wand and break it over her knee. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, she thought. The child rubbed his ear, holding back tears, and tried again.

“There is one true god, Erus. The one god is my father and mother. Erus was not made, or created, or begotten by other gods.” This time Sia Riada cracked the wand across the side of the boy’s neck leaving a red welt. “Nor created, nor begotten,” she corrected. “Have any of you been listening today or practicing the ten truths of the Waarheid Faith?” Sia Riada looked around the room. All the children looked down, many of them rubbed welts on their cheeks, hands, and arms. “Not a single one of you have been able to recite them word for word.” Sia Riada walked through the room and each child shut their eyes as she passed by expecting to feel the sting of the switch. “We will try again tomorrow. But now, out of my sight. To bed with you all.”

“Sia?” Ailish asked. “The children have not eaten.”

Sia Riada softened her angry face to a smile. “Children, Novice Ailish is correct. Even though you have greatly displeased the one true god today you shall not go hungry. Ailish reminds us that Erus is the great benefactor.” Ailish relaxed and started to lead the children away, but Sia Riada held up her hand. “Each one will have a crust of bread and an apple,” Sia said. “And Novice Briana will see to it.” She motioned for Ailish to follow her. Ailish’s stomach turned. They walked down a narrow stone passage toward the Novice chambers and Sia Riada said nothing for a good minute.

“You do not approve of my teaching.” Riada said, not looking at Ailish.

“With all respect Sia, I’m not sure how much the children are learning with this method,” Ailish said.

“Do you think I like punishing them?”

Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes when you do it, she thought. “No, of course not, Sia,” She said.

“First they must fear us. This way they learn to fear the one true god. When they are obedient to Erus, and know his commands, then we can be a little kinder,” Ailish teetered on whether to push further or let it go. She had no power here. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile, doing what she was told, not standing out. But she had just watched Sia Riada strike every child in that room. Inside, Ailish was fuming.

“But I think that if something is taught through fear and pain then it will only last as long as the fear or the pain.” She realized that she sounded stronger than she had meant to and waited for a rebuke or even for Sia Riada to slap her. Instead, Sia Riada laughed.

“How would you teach them Ailish? With sweets and games?” She touched Ailish’s cheek. “You are young and you have much to learn. We need to send these children back to their villages so obedient in the Waarheid faith that they will turn in their own parents for breaking the holy laws.” Sia Riada paused, thinking to herself then said, “Tomorrow you will strike them if they make a mistake.” Ailish was left standing in front of the door to her room with her mouth open. She closed it and blew air through her nose like bull ready to charge. No, she cannot make me do that. I must talk to Tallard.

She did not mind her small room. She had lived in better and worse places over the years, and this little space with a bed, a desk, and a chair felt snug and safe. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it feeling the cool wood against her palms. She closed her eyes and let the anger drain from her with every breath.

I have been many things and lived many lives but nothing as vile as this. The past washed over her memory and she began to ground herself. I was an innkeeper’s daughter once. I remember the smell of the lavender that we would hang to dry and the sound of musicians in the common room. She breathed deeply. I was a scribe’s assistant. I remember the smell of fresh ink on the page and the way the binding glue stuck to my fingers like sap from a pine tree. Every breath was a different memory.

She opened her eyes and came back to the present. She was Ailish Matahva, fourth year novice of The One True Faith. The same religion that had murdered her family. The same religion that had murdered all of the Wise Ones, or Fad Matka as her first guardian Mira had called them. You are Fad Matka. You make the long voyage. “How I miss you sometimes Mira,” she said to the empty room. “This has been a very long voyage. And now a dangerous one.” The One True Faith saw those with longevity such as hers as unnatural and evil. She was a demon in the eyes of The Faithful.

Hiding among them was her guardian, Tallard’s idea. When word reached them that others like her were disappearing, he hatched this plan without telling anyone, even his most trusted friends. It seemed to have worked. There had been no bad news in four years. Things seemed to have settled down and this had also given her the first opportunity to see The One True Faith from the inside. What she learned did not endear it to her any more than it had for three hundred years. It must be safe enough to do away with this farce. This place is killing my heart.

She sat down at her desk and looked down at the Livro Unon, The One Book. Everything revolved around this sacred text. She traced her fingers on the cover. It was both fascinating and troubling. Mira had kept her away from anything that had to do with this religion. But her third guardian, Therese, thought it best that she at least learn the basics so not to appear hostile to the beliefs of these invaders. All of her novice training revolved around this book; memorizing passages and learning how to use it to convert others to the faith. So good had she played the part of a novice that she had earned her own copy. No other novice had one. Tallard had scolded her a little for that. “Don’t stand out too Much,” he had said. “Try being a mediocre novice instead of a star pupil. Be invisible.”  

Mira took care of her during her youngest years and they had moved around often. “Those around you grow older, child. Your Mira grows older. We must go where no one knows us.” She smiled at the memory. So every village or town they moved to they would start over again. First Mira was her mother. Then her aunt. Then her grandmother. What she remembered most about Mira was the songs. Mira told her that when she sang the songs of her people their spirit would live on. Mira taught her at least one hundred different songs, some very short, and some epic in length which told the story of her family’s history. This was when it was still safe to sing them. Before the presence of the One True Faith was everywhere. “How long since I sang one of your songs, Mira?” She said. “If you were here you would make me sing one right now, wouldn’t you?”

The light was fading outside and her room growing dimmer. I will have to wait until tomorrow to talk with Tallard about Sia Riada. He can send me on some errand to get me away for the day. Ailish lit a candle on the desk. Then she began to sing.
    
    Home, sweet home, is where I long to be
    Home, dear home in my own country
    For the pine and the laurel, and old sweet gum tree
    Are all waiting for me in my dear old country

    I’m longing for home where my heart can run free
    I’m hoisting my sail and crossing the sea
    For the pine and the laurel, and the old sweet gum tree
    Are all growing green in my own country
    
She picked up Livro Unon and imagined tearing out one page at a time and setting fire to each one. This religion will burn itself out, but you will live on, Mira’s voice came again. Then you and the other survivors of the Great Cleansing will reemerge and bring peace back to Oparia.

That had not happened. Over the years she watched the Waarheid faith spread like a burning plague over the land. It was the land that burned. Villages had burned. People had burned. Now I am somewhere where I cannot even burn this damned book! I’m so tired of this game. She sang on,

    Home, sweet home is waiting for me
    My lover, my friends, and my whole family
    They are watching and waiting for me just to be
    Safe and sound in my own country

Ailish shoved the Livro Unon away from her.

Brother Tallard tossed the message toward the fire but his shaking hand caused him to miss entirely. He walked over to the crumpled parchment and kicked it into the flames. He sat down on a wooden stool, watching the message burn to ash, and controlled his breathing.
    This is no time to panic. There was no time to waste but actions without thinking would be more disastrous. He thought through what the message said and meant.
    
    The dogs have the scent. “Sacred Warriors are coming.” He took a deep breath.
    They come from home. “Sent from the Autorian Temple.” He exhaled.
    Uproot the tree. “Ailish must leave.” He took another breath, steadier now.
    Replant elsewhere. “She must go somewhere unknown.” He exhaled again.
    R.V. “A friend.”

He did not have time to prepare but he knew Ailish had some hint of it. All these years of planning and moving around here he was caught unawares.

There was no doubt that the Waarheid was again hunting for all of her kind yet why it was not more public was a mystery to him. He knew that at some time in the future Ailish might have to go at a moments notice, but now that the time had come, and he had warning of it, the horror he felt was new to him. The danger was real. All the years as her sworn guardian weighed down on him. All the years of the three previous guardians weighed on him. For three hundred years she had been kept safe. Now it could end with him. He had been lulled to sleep as knowledge of the Wise Ones of Oparia was fading away, their existence turned into more myth than history.

The dogs have the scent. He clenched his fist driving his nails into his palms. How did they get the scent? Who betrayed me? It could be anyone and he did not have time to play that game. Uproot the tree. Yes. First uproot the tree. Ailish had to go. Now.

He went to his desk, pulled the center drawer all of the way out and set it on top. He pulled out a small money bag from a hidden place in the back of the opening and put it into his sleeve. Then he left his room.

The hallway of the monastery was quiet and empty in the evening. He was by no means in charge of this place but his movements at this hour would not be questioned. He approached another door knocked once, then three times, then once again. The door opened and he went in.

“What is it?” Brother Theus said. “You look like you are about to be sick.”

“No. Not sick” he said, sitting down on the small bed. “Listen to me very carefully Theus and don’t ask too many questions because we do not have time for them.” Theus sat down. He was a young brother of the Waarheid faith that had been with Brother Tallard almost his whole life. Yet neither of them were really brothers of this faith. They were guardians hiding a secret in the least likely place the Waarheid would look. Theus was Tallard’s apprentice and would take over as Ailish’s guardian when Tallard passed on.

“Is it Ailish? Is she sick?” Tallard glared at him. “Alright, no questions.”

“They know she is here. They may even know who she is. They are coming for her.”

“That’s ridiculous. If they knew, the Prior would…”

“For all I know that might be happening now. But my source is reliable. Sacred Warriors have been sent out from Autoria to take her.” Brother Theus stood and ran his hand through his beard. “Theus, you must take her Baelesh. I have an old friend there who will help.”

“Baelish? That’s a month’s journey, in good weather. We’ve no time to prepare. Couldn’t we just move her to a small village outside of Vyrion until things settle down? And what do you mean I have to take her? What about you?”

“I know we are not prepared. But we have been asleep, Theus. This threat has been gathering, taking the protected one by one, and we must wake up before we lose all of them.” Tallard rose and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and shook the money bag out into his other hand. “You are going to need help, and the kind I am thinking of will require a few of these at least.”

“Mercenaries?” Theus raised his eyebrows. “That did not go so well last time we used them.”

“Yes, I know. But we need the same man actually.”

“Hayes Fulton?”

“Yes. No one knows the country as well as that scoundrel.” Tallard shook the coins into his palm. There were two dozen silver and three large gold ones. Theus’ eyes widened.

“Gold crowns. That should get his attention.”

“That should more than make up for last year’s little… debacle. The silver will help with expenses along the way. Now I believe he and his friends are in Briarwood which should take you out of the path of the Sacred Warriors if they are taking the most traveled route.”

“What about you?” Theus asked, pocketing the coin purse and starting to gather a few things from his room.

“I will stall them as long as I can. Then I’m going to see the little bird who was kind enough to give us the warning and see what else I can turn up about who’s behind this. I will meet you in Rivertown in three days.” Tallard went to the door, stopped, but did not turn. “If I am not there in three days do not wait. Do you understand?” Theus stepped toward him and put a hand on his arm. Tallard turned to embrace him. Theus realized that Tallard was shaking with fear.

“You must not show how afraid you are to Ailish or she will not leave you,” Theus said.

“I know. I will go to her now. She will be in the stables in a quarter hour.” Tallard smiled and looked at his friend. “It may be time for you to assume my responsibilities. But we shall see.”