The early morning air was fresh and still held a measure of moisture. The humidity, that was sure to follow, could be felt lingering on the edge of focus. For now, it was held at bay by the after effects of the moon’s blissfully cool kiss. 

Anya felt better as she walked towards the stables – the morning had not been easy since her mother had shaken her awake. She had barely taken notice of what she had done in her room before leaving the house. It was as if she were watching herself through someone else’s eyes. She packed the few possessions she thought she would need. The bag was full by the time she had packed clothing for cold and warm weather, as well as a blanket roll and the small wooden sculpture of a horse her grandfather had given her on one of her birthdays. Wedged between it all was a small dagger Roan had bought for her. When she had squeezed the short dagger’s hilt in her palm, she had sighed and felt a pang in her chest. 

She reached for the familiar antique ring hanging softly down her chest. She had found the ancient looking band two months ago and had worn it ever since on a thin piece of twine as a hopeful luck charm. 

They met Irien by the yard. Irien’s dun horse, Hana, stood proudly with Irien’s traveling bag, bed and tools already packed behind the saddle. Anya looked to the mount she would be riding. The mare was a golden bay with a black mane and tail, and a velvety black muzzle. She stood quietly next to Hana, no less proud than the dun. Her markings made an intelligent expression and she was regarding her surroundings with interest while her dainty ears flicked back and forth. 

Studying the mare, Anya was proud to see she held her neck in an artful arch like most of her father’s horses and her tail was held high. Looking at the legs she saw small black scars from previous injuries but other than that, the mare could have been one of her father’s prized animals.

“She is the foal you helped, when you were a little girl. Remember? The one who was caught in a thorn bush?” her father gushed when he noticed Anya’s wondered smile.

Anya thought back and could vaguely remember the young filly she had helped, “A little.”

“Her name is Thorn. Named her after the thorn bush you found her in.”

Anya approached the big mare and allowed her to smell her outstretched hand. 

“It is time,” Irien said softly.

Goodbyes were never easy, but she had to force her way through it and hide – for her mother’s sake – the fear she felt boiling inside her. The decision to leave so suddenly did not make it any easier. Then again, knowing you were leaving a week in advance would be no different? Leaving was leaving and no matter the time to prepare, it ended with the same result.

Irien had dealt with the emotions in a calm, cool manner and had spoken formally to her parents as if she had just met them. “Farewell, thank you for your hospitality.” She soothed. “Your names will be mentioned to the Elders and their Council and a reward should be sent to you soon.” And then she turned her horse to leave.

Anya had to force herself not to look back over her shoulder. She could almost feel the attachments that held her to her home loosening their grip. She held back tears and sat straight in the saddle mimicking Irien’s calm composure, but in truth, she was crumbling inside.

“I still don’t understand why we had to leave so suddenly,” she said more tersely than she had hoped.

“It is for the best,” if Irien noticed Anya’s blunt tone, she showed no feeling of it.

“I still would have liked to say goodbye.”

“Goodbyes are harder than you think. Sometimes it is better just to leave.”

The morning slowly unfolded into a glorious day. Anya cursed as she felt her riding pants stick to her legs and her plain white shirt do the same. She had chosen to dress in her riding clothing since it was the most practical and most comfortable. She would change into the usual split skirt dress when they came closer to the next town. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. It was still late morning and already the sun’s heat was beating down on the two travelers. 

Irien set the pace at a brisk walk. The horses were fresh and eager to spread their legs. Anya kept her hands firmly on the reins, but could feel the mare’s eagerness. They passed the outer farms of the town and watched the young and old men working in the fields. When they finally passed the last house, the path opened up into a broad wagon road between two grassy pastures. 

Irien turned to Anya and smiled. She clicked her horse forward and it was not long after that Hana was galloping down the road. Thorn was already galloping after the dun horse before Anya could encourage her. Laughing, she allowed the mare to buck excitedly before setting out in a full gallop. 

Anya felt exhilarated, she leaned her body against Thorn’s neck; pressing herself as close to the golden coat as possible. Wind whipped at her face, stinging her eyes and filling her ears with a roar. Thorn was determined to catch up to Hana and Anya could feel her powerful muscles rippling under her saddle from the effort. A few minutes later Anya drew level with her teacher. Irien was up in the saddle also leaning into her horse’s neck. She wore a rare smile and her small pink tongue could be seen peeping through a straight set of pearly white teeth. She looked at Anya challengingly; a glow in her pale eyes that was not there before. Anya laughed and nodded. 

The two of them raced until the end of the fields and when they drew in their reins, their horses were panting from exertion; foaming at the sides. Anya patted Thorn’s damp neck; murmuring words of comfort into her ear.

For the rest of the day they kept the horses at a walk. They stopped once by a lake for a bite to eat, allowing the mares to drink and graze in the overgrown grass. Irien unpacked some food that had been made by a maternal Lira, making them a lunch from raw vegetables and dried meats as well as a few honey-coated nuts to finish up. 

Anya was munching on a carrot while Irien chewed on a dried piece of meat; both women sat in silence enjoying the sounds of the open lands. Anya had never seen so much open space before. She had thought her father’s farm was big, but the expanse of the rolling hills of the valley was much larger than she had ever expected. Irien cleared her throat to catch Anya’s attention. Swallowing, Anya focused on Irien, who was peering intently at a broken branch near them.

“Anya, what do you know of the Pyree?”

Anya raised her brows. “Not much, only that the Guardians don’t like them and they have been banished for quite a long time.”

“But do you know why?”

“Not really, what makes you ask?”

“It is probably nothing,” Irien said through an obvious forced smile. “You will learn more of it soon enough.”

“Why not tell me now?” Anya reached for the ring around her neck irritably. “You have brought up the topic so why not explain it to me?”

Irien seemed to consider her for a few seconds before nodding. “Very well. Have you ever heard of the prophecy foretold by the Gods?”

Anya shook her head, choosing to ignore the obvious change in topic. 

Irien straightened her back and cleared her throat once more, “In a time beyond any human’s recollection, before Karia was Keeper, the Gods foretold of an individual. They said this individual was a threat not only to itself, but also the Will. He or she would be able to access the Will without a Guardian’s help, just like the Pyree do. The Pyree’s access to the Will is limited, however, this individual’s access would be stronger than one of the Elders, maybe even the Keeper. The Gods therefore, asked us to find this individual, to help him or her to use the Will to their full potential and protect him or her as well as Hanarah from the power he or she possessed.”

Anya was listening intently, she loved stories, whether they were true or not. She had no doubts this one was true, the Gods were never mentioned lightly – besides for small town talk. 

“Somehow the Pyree heard about the prophecy and have been searching for that specific individual ever since. We have been doing the same. We began sending out fully trained Guardians – like myself – to scout for possible subjects in secluded towns. The one with the strongest Will power was chosen and trained for two years until he or she was ready to finish his or her training at the capital. It is our assumption that the Pyree believe that the prophecy speaks of one who will lead them to greatness and out of their suffering, but that is a bunch of cows wallop to me, since they endure no suffering only inflict it.

Anya arched her eyebrows, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I think you ought to know why the Guardians dislike the Pyree, that’s all. It is an important part of any Guardian’s training to understand why we cannot trust them and why we dislike them so much. Of course, there are more reasons but you will understand them later in your training. For now, I need you to promise me never to trust one, never to associate yourself with one. They are dangerous and unpredictable. They answer only to themselves and sometimes to the Gods. They refuse to listen to the Guardians and will never settle down in one place; they prefer the wild. They are vicious and deadly fighters and have no sense of discipline. I need you to promise me this.”

“But they are outlawed.”

“Yes, and rightly so.”

“So I probably will never meet one anyway.”

Irien smiled. “I truly hope not, but, if the unfortunate incident does occur, you must not be fooled by their trickery.” She seemed to think better “Do you promise me?”

“Do you think there is a risk of them reappearing?”

“Enough time has passed for memories to fade and grudges to have cooled off, so one can never be too careful. With the Pyree we may never know when they choose to do anything, but until the Guardians have proof of their danger to people we have to tolerate them and their appearances as much as we dislike them.”

“So what would you do if you met one?”

“For now,” Irien scowled. “Nothing. Ignoring them is always best; it is only the King who has authority to arrest one if he could find the force to do it with,”

“They are strong?”

“They are dangerous and I need you to promise me.”

“I promise,” Anya did not understand Irien’s urgency in the matter but could not see the damage in agreeing to her plea. Irien must have a good reason for saying what she had, and Anya trusted her enough to know that she knew better. But still something nagged at her. Irien never seemed affected by anything or anyone, so what had provoked her now? Why become so anxious over a group of wild travelers?

“Thank you Anya. Now I think we have lingered here long enough. We should continue.”