Prologue: A New Voice

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"Tell me about your mother."

The speaker was an elf, at least six foot, his bright grey eyes fixed on the girl before him. There was no judgement in his eyes as he leaned back in the wooden chair and took a deep breath of the cold air wafting through a nearby window. When he got no answer, he said,

"Your year is over, Belkai. Your voice is no longer forbidden."

The girl looked up at him with green eyes that reflected her uncertainty. She swallowed nervously, then answered with a conviction that surprised him.

"I have no mother, Master Brimur."

"The woman who gave birth to you," Brimur prodded, not moving as he studied her. The response itself was not unexpected. "Tell me about her."

"There is nothing to tell," Belkai replied, absentmindedly brushing a strand of auburn hair off her face. "She left me and my father when I was six. I barely knew her when she decided to make a new life."

"But you're sixteen now," the elf remarked. "Where is she now?"

"I never asked," Belkai said honestly. "Nor do I wish to. She made her choice."

"So you left your father."

"I left behind a life of making leather," Belkai shot back. "I never left him. We will stay in contact, now that I may."

Brimur nodded, then looked out the window at the grey skies. He smiled as he turned back to her. "Your instructors say that you did well in your silent year. You learn quickly."

"They are good teachers," Belkai allowed. "And I did not break my oath."

"No, you did not." And that was impressive, Brimur had to admit. Of the fifteen who had joined the Order the previous year, nine had either broken their vows or simply left. That was a higher attrition rate than normal, though the toll was always high on those who endured. He sat forward and put his hands on the small table before them. "So tell me, Belkai, hopeful Child of the Wind, what do you think of the Order that you have joined?"

That was a hard question for her to answer. She bit her lip as she thought, only giving her answer after a few moments of silence. "It is...intriguing. Unexpected."

"Explain."

"We are not permitted to speak for a year, but we train. We learn. I expected an isolated year in contemplation."

"And instead you laboured hard in utter silence."

"On my part, yes." Belkai smiled. "It was something of a relief."

"It reveals a greater reality than what you would normally perceive," Brimur said, and Belkai nodded.

"I have learned much."

And she had exceeded most of her companions, Brimur knew, though he kept silent on that point. There were more tests to be faced, and they were best faced without too much ego. She would succeed, Brimur decided as he watched her. There was a rare determination there, whatever the source may be.

"Go in peace, Belkai," he said, coming up to his feet. She did the same, and gave a short bow.

"Good day, Master." She turned and walked out of the room, her scarlet dress blowing in the sudden gust of wind that came through the window. Belkai didn't look back as the door swung shut, pausing only to enjoy the cold wind that came before the threatened storm. The compound was surrounded by high stone walls thick enough to withstand most siege engines, a holdover from when the Ikari orcs had waged war amongst themselves, before the Unification had brought a measure of tough peace to the war-ravaged land. The buildings were similarly built, though the Order had made them quite comfortable. It was a tough community, hardened and reflecting the nature of the orcs that they existed alongside, but it was also one that valued peace and pleasure in most of its forms.

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