He did not know what was in store. Not really. Lessons and instruction could get him only so far, and he had to trust they had prepared him adequately.
He wanted more time to speak with Aemsol, wanted to see if there were secrets that could now be shared between fellow Guardians.
But time was short, as the sage had declared less than a week before.
Time was short, and the Journey was looming, and he felt so horribly unprepared.
That would not do. Confidence was needed, for how could the Lightkeep trust him to protect her if he could not trust himself?
Resolve filled him, slowly, a cold shiver as it spread through each of his limbs and settled in his heart. He could do this. Had to do this.
There truly was no other choice.
For the sages did not make mistakes.
Everyone knew that.
Four
The walk was a longer one than Grimult had expected. It should not have surprised him given that the buildings that the sages inhabited were not within immediate view of the initiates’ encampments, but it still seemed to go on for an age.
He supposed he would simply have to get used to that, this the first of many days of travel, the unknown before him.
He could not help himself from casting glances to his right, at her. She did not stumble, not as she had in the arena the last time, but her pace was a sedate one. Was she reluctant to reach their destination or was this the usual manner of her person?
The Journey would be long indeed if so.
He would have liked to ask their reasons for selecting him, if there was a skill they found within him that would prove particularly useful in the immediate future, but nothing about any of their visages suggested that speech would be welcome, so he continued on in silence, wondering if the weeks to follow would be as equally quiet.
He told himself that would suit just fine, that he would be occupied with plenty of other things. The Lightkeep was his charge, not his companion, and he could not rely on her for conversation.
At last the tunnel opened into the outer chamber of some sort of building. He would not know its use unless he investigated further, and he doubted he would be permitted to do so.
The stonework was dissimilar to what he’d known from other such constructions between the clans, although he did not consider himself travelled enough to say for certain it did not belong to any specific people. They shared many things, but each group was unique in their own ways, the only true unifier their delivery of whatever boy was selected as an initiate.
More sages awaited them, faces almost menacing in flickering lights that surrounded them. There was an opening to the left that led to sky and fresh air, and Grimult was anxious to go out into it. The pack he had filled with his meagre belongings was now filled completely, sitting at the feet of one of the younger sages. It would be heavy, there was no denying that, but their provisions were more than necessary, and he did not resent the weight of it.
But even more importantly, a sage held forth a lantern, long and elaborately detailed in the ironwork surrounding the flame inside of it.
Her burden to bear.
To keep it lit throughout the whole of their travels, to deliver it beyond the Wall and beyond his knowledge or protection.
There was no ceremony to accompany its passing. She would have been trained since birth in the importance of her task, and she stepped forward as expected to accept it. Her hands came about the handle, delicate as they were, the lantern itself clinging to her side as she allowed her arm to drop, the lantern almost reaching the ground due to their proportions.
The pack was given to him, the sage himself coming to see that the straps were positioned correctly.
His short sword was strapped about his waist, hanging on a belt, knives and other tools and weapons distributed about his person, some tucked into boots, other buckled around his forearms. It was not comfortable, but with each addition, he realised once more the seriousness of the undertaking. If they thought all of these were required, then they were, and he would keep a careful eye on their surroundings from the first step outside the sages’ dwelling.
When at last he was outfitted to their satisfaction, the sages stepped aside, the path to the outside no longer obstructed.
They could go.
Were meant to go.
Grimult had expected them to be given final instructions, perhaps a word in parting, but there was nothing.
Only expectant looks that they be on their way, but Grimult hesitated, certain that something had been missed.
But the Lightkeep moved along, her gait far improved from the one she had before, and he hurried to keep after her. He felt sluggish and unwieldy by his new burdens, but she managed her lantern well enough, and he was not about to complain or ask her to slow her steps. He would adjust for there was no other choice.
The sun was nearly blinding after their sojourn in the darkened passages and he blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear the black spots that appeared in his vision, his brow furrowed as he strained against the unrelenting light.
The Lightkeep appeared undisturbed, if anything, her face leaning slightly upward as if to take in more of the rays.
And still, she kept walking.
He wanted to glance behind, to see the building that housed the sages, and, more importantly, the Lightkeep herself, but he was uncertain of the wisdom of it. The dangers were likely few while still within the borders of inhabited lands, but what if her pace quickened further and she disappeared from view while he busied himself with architecture?
He was being ridiculous. He needed to learn how to take in
