Dillon sat on the lush green river bank with a pole in hand. The sky was calm which was unusual for the spring season. Spring generally was menaced by the storms above. The gods fighting to gain control of the seasons. Often their fights would spill onto the land below, some for the better and some for the worse. A week of rain was good omen to the harvest growers, it meant they would have crops to feed the kingdom and extra to make a profit for themselves. A month of heavy rain meant death to the miners, with mudslides cover them where they worked. The river would be wide and the fishermen would have to sit out until the waters calmed so the fish would return. It was an embattled season, but no matter how ready you were the gods would do something that no amount of planning could prepare for. Just last week fireballs had lit the sky, making it seem as if the night had turned to day in an instant, three of them passed and the hamlet sighed in relief. No one saw the fourth lagging behind its brothers. The forth struck the north church turning it into a crater. It was a bad omen for the gods to strike a place where they were worshiped and the elders cowered in fear that the hamlet had not worshiped the gods properly, the destruction of the church was a significant sign. The priest who had tended to the church and the people of the wayfare hamlet was killed as a result of the supposed action of the gods. As a result Dillon was being sent to the city to train in the priesthood.
The line at the end of the pole grew taut and Dillon snapped the pole back. The line remained tight and he whispered a prayer to the god of the hunt in thanks that the fish did not escape the hook. The sapling he had cut bent with the fishes efforts of escape, but he knew how to bring his catch in. Rather than just lifting the pole into the air he moved to lower ground pulling the fish with him until he found the pebbled beach. He dropped the but of his pole into the ground and began pulling on the string. It was a heavy fish and it took him more than a few minutes to drag it in. He brought it up, disbelief framed his eyes. The fish was a could ten pounds, he should have broken his line, but somehow he was fated to catch. His disbelief didn’t stem from the size of the fish, but more of the fact that was of a species that did not belong in the river. The large fin on the back shaped like a sail and the silver scales were more of the kind of fish found in the great sea. For it to have been driven up river to this hamlet which was more than a six days ride meant something was driving it up stream. Being the great sea, it could mean anything. It was vast and was said to hold many monsters.
His stomach growled, his uncle would appreciate the catch, it would make a filling dinner. He was right. His uncle had been standing outside their home watching Dalion carry his catch to the house. His uncle who was always a jovial sort had again much larger than his usual.
“The gods are pleased with you.”
“But this fish doesn’t belong in a river.”
“Then their pleasure is far greater than we realize. You will make a good priest. Perhaps you will look over this hamlet when you have passed the trials of the priesthood.”
Dilion kept his mouth shut and once inside hes set the fish the large cutting board. His uncle took out a heavy cleaver chopped the head and fin off, put them into a bowl of water andset it to boil. The soup would be used to supplement their meals through the week. His uncle took a knife and made long slice on either side of its belly opened it up and expertly pulled the bone out. It wasn’t as hard as the river fish, the bones were much bigger, but his uncle did make it look easy.
“About the priesthood.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to be a priest, I don’t even understand why I’m the one chosen in this hamlet to become a priest.”
“There are no other.”
“I can name some, Timoth, hardning, Daniel and brandon. Why not any of them?”
“Timoth will take over the goat herding from his father, Hardning will be plowing his families feilds with his pa troubled back he will be the one in charge of the families holdings for ill or for good. Daniel is the only one skilled enough to fill the shoes of being a cooper and Brandon doesn’t have the compassion or the sense to be placed into the world of Scholars. Besides—”
Dillon closed his eyes. “I know, I’m the only one without parents, my brother went north after my Pa died and I have no trade to follow.”
“I’m a huntsmen and it’s a solitary job, but there are many huntsmen around that will fill in the gap. I’m not making enough with the trade and I’d rather you do something that will ensure you don’t just have to make do.”
“I understand and I love you for caring about me. If Pa were alive I would follow his trade.”
His uncle spat on the ground and gave an evil sign. “Sure enough your dad being a caster would mean that you would have followed, but casters are shunned by most except royalty who could mange them. Because the scholarly nature of casters you would also do well as a priest they view they learn similarly.”
“I don’t feel scholarly, I don’t even have a book.”
“No you don’t but that doesn’t mean you don’t read the world around you. I’ve seen you tense up before a bad storm. I watch how you observe everything around you. I bet you could count the hairs on a rabbit in a single moment before you let loose an arrow. And remember both priests and casters did not read in when they were formed, what they learned was through oral tradition and they came door to door offering their services just for a meal and a place of warmth. You can read and that is an advantage, but don’t forget that is not all a priest will contend with.”
“This time in the morrow you will be heading up the city road with Everish, he’ll sell some of my furs to the nobles and you will be presented to the high priest as one of the priesthoods pupil. The elders expect it and I would hope that you would do it for recompense for all the care I have given you. Your not my son of my flesh, but I honor my wife by taken care of her brothers child.”
His uncle placed a calloused hand on his shoulder. “Now please relax you have earned it this day. Dinner will be ready in the evening and we shall have a feast.”
Dillon blew the candle out and tried to ease into sleep. Even though his body felt tired his mind was alive. Tomorrow would be the end of his life and the end of his line. Being part of the priesthood was like marrying the church. You were cared for given a stipend, but you were not allowed to own property or take a wife. At sixteen he didn’t want to spend the five years of training closeted inside the church. Regardless of what his uncle the path of becoming a priest did not sing to him. It felt wrong and with each passing minute his fear grew. If he could, he’d find a way to ditch Everish. His brother lived up north in one of the lumber towns plying a trade in medicine.He surely would be given asylum. How could his own brother refuse him.
