Lyrad had expected an emotional outburst like this, and he was ready with a box of tissues for her.
She took a tissue, thanking him for it, and kissed him again. “You eat your breakfast,” she insisted, pushing a plate at him.
He did as she bade, savoring every bite of the cat eyes and lizard skins, eating as slowly as he could in an effort to steal away every last second he could in his house. He didn’t want to leave, but knew he had no other choice.
When he was done, Lyrad’s mother got a call over the com link that the carriage was waiting. Even though the Seminary had one of the few teleporters left in the world, regular transportation was still used the majority of the time. Teleportation took up a lot of resources.
Lyrad got up from the table bravely, ready to face anything. He walked over to his mother and gave her one more emotional goodbye hug and kiss, then left the house with his stuff in hand. When he reached the carriage, he put the travel bag in the back but would not let go of his box. After a quick argument, the carriage driver let him keep it and went to the front.
His semi-joyous mood changed as soon as he had to say goodbye to his homeland, Druuk, and the gravity of his situation started to become real.
Nevertheless, when he stepped off the carriage at the Seminary in Kot several days later, he was headstrong and prepared for anything – just the kind of attitude priests seemed to hate the most.
A few of them came up to him when they saw the carriage pull up and greeted him. They took his bag and tried to take his box, but again, he wouldn’t let them. They gave up after a moment and led him around the Seminary, giving him a tour. They showed him all the facilities they had, and then showed him to his room, which he didn’t even have to share with a roommate, and gave him time to get settled.
Lyrad spent some time unpacking, then sat on his bed and waited for the priests to come back for him. When they did, they told him about many of the classes he would take, of the test to become a true priest, of the magic the Ward of Priesthood gave to those like him, and a lot of tales about the gods he’d never heard before. It all sounded interesting, especially the part about casting magic, but for now his mind was still focused more on his Dragon training and he found his thoughts straying to it whenever he had a free moment.
Things stayed that way for some time, too, much to the priests’ dismay. The first step in becoming a priest was always letting go of the old life, something he was loathe to do. That was, until one day a few months later when Lyrad received an old-fashioned letter from home. Though com links made conversing over great distances quicker and easier, letters were often used to send bad news so one could avoid speaking directly with the recipient.
It was because of this that Lyrad had a bad feeling from the first moment he looked at the piece of paper. It was from the Druuk authorities, and it explained that his father had died in a woodcutting accident and his mother had been taken to jail for falling behind on the bills.
His mind instantly went back to the Zhar story he’d thought about months prior, the man who had lost everything just to test his faith in the gods, and he realized that was now him.
Slowly, he let go of his attachments to his past life, truly having nothing left to go back to now. He even forgot about his special box with his training gear in it, shoving it into a cobweb-filled corner of his room.
Having nothing else to turn to, Lyrad did eventually turn to the gods and found his salvation through forgetfulness.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh, come on, man,” John said to Lyrad as they walked down the hallway.
It had been about two years since Lyrad had gotten the letter about his parents. He’d been in Seminary for about three years in total. In that time, he and John had become best friends. John had even revealed at one point that he’d been the one to find Lyrad’s mom out in Druuk to begin with.
“The test isn’t half as hard as they say. It’s a breeze, really. They just make it sound hard to freak you out.”
“Do you really think so, John?” Lyrad asked, a skeptical look on his face. “I have learned to trust your judgement most of the time lately, but this time I just don’t know if I can. Are you sure about this?”
“Just trust me on this one, okay, buddy,” John insisted. “I passed the test like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I’m sure you’ll do better. All the instructors say you’re one of the best yet and your faith is unparalleled.” John shrugged. “If you can’t trust me, trust the gods.”
While Lyrad was thinking about the test ahead, a memory stirred in him, but it was kind of shady and he wasn’t sure what it was about. Someone had said something like that once before, but he didn’t know who or what. He soon shrugged it off. “Oh, I know, I’ve taken tons of tests in my life, just none of them have sounded so hard, except for . . . what was that test again?” He shook his head, confused. “Huh. I can’t remember. How strange.”
“What’s what, my friend?”
“I’m not sure. I thought I knew, but I can’t remember now. We both know how good my memory is, after all.”
John shrugged. “Whatever you say, buddy.”
The rest of the journey to the testing hall passed without comment.
