men. Selmas wakes in his bed on the floor of the room just off of the forge, his teacher snoring lightly on the other side o

on hold so that everyone can attend. The Ceremony is for welcoming new Warriors, but it means a feast in the afternoon and

Ceremony. They won’t be participating, having already been accepted by the Bloodstone, but the barracks

s out. He looks tired, yawning hugely, and his braided hair is lying loose on his

bother to do your

o tired.” He pouts. “D

s?” He’s in a good mood today; even if he can’t quite convince himself that thin

Warrior,” he says. “I don’t

r into the forest as he scrubs the sleep from

yrisin rely on them. They provide cover for their archers, make a defensible border, and provide fruit from their branches, wood for the fires. Selmas

he trees; it’s too high to be easily reachable, so the harvesters m

oing up, o

k, tracing sleepy circles on th

to reach one of the lower branches. He swings upward, hand over hand, legs giving him a boost when

with his shirt and takes a bite. It’s crisp, sweet, a little tart. He gathers three others, maki

promise of food. They sit on a fallen log, enjoying the taste of t

s an earnest sort of glance. “Not being able t

t whenever I want,” Selmas points

u miss y

Do you miss it? What it was li

oing to be Warriors. I knew not to get attached to anything, so I didn’t hav

won’t be able to call me that soo

h,” Byrin teases. “So I can call

elmas laughs. “And I’m only

eat your elders,” By

ng the last of his breakfast

s. “It’s st

ging Byrin to his feet. “The sun’s

ws himself to be pulled down the

ad in excitement. People greet friends and neighbors, glad to be joining each other for the festivities. Selmas sees a few of their customers, people who come to him to get a cracked pot or a broken kitchen knife men

o that it’s just a large, open circle of dirt. A wooden platform has been constructed in the middle, which is where t

ng that represents life, dedication, struggle. If it sinks in, liquid parting through sleek rock, then that person will be a Warrior, their blood gifted with all of the strength that th

people do; most think that it’s foolish to try again once rejected a first time. You can’t change your blood, a

Selmas off the path and to the side. He looks almost as nervous

says, “You’re still family,

a little shaky. “We’ll be more than th

something out, extends it toward Selmas,

went into battle and never came back. It’s not unusual for children in Alyris to be orphans, but that doesn’t

rs wrapping around the painte

you aren’t alone up there.” He claps a hand o

e crowd. Selmas takes a deep breath, slides the dagger in

is, just eighteen, a little greener, more excited. Their palms are still unscarred. Selmas glances down at

pping up onto the platform. She’s followed by Gwynfor, who comes to s

again, for us to welcome new Warriors to our ranks. It has been a hard year

g, but he does spot a small group of Wisterin, their silver hair and green tunics standing ou

aw clenched, staring straight ahead, fingers gripping the Bloodstone box with white knuckle

okay?” Se

Gwynfor his

e Chieftain says, finishing her speech. She beckons to her daughter, who steps forward, offe

women on the stage glance at each other, nervously. Selmas cranes his neck, perching on his

ox is

odstone