The sun was rising in the west, its first rays illuminating the road ahead.
Iaral, the recruiter, guided the horses as they traveled along the road between the Free Cities. A dark-skinned man who followed the Way of the Veil, he had spent the last few months traveling from city to city in search of children with the potential to join the Order of the Guardians of Dawn.
Finding them was only the first part of his work.
Iaral tested their abilities, their cleverness, their instincts, and, most importantly, their connection to magic. Every Guardian needed at least some affinity for it. The Order could teach discipline, combat, and knowledge, but there had to be something there to begin with.
There was one other requirement.
No family ties.
The Order had its reasons for being so strict about that. A Guardian could not afford divided loyalties, especially when sent into places where following orders could mean choosing between the people they loved and the people they had sworn to protect.
On this journey, Iaral had found three children.
The first was Arkteriz.
She was a southern elf, one of the elves sometimes called Red-Eyed Elves because of the blood-red color of their irises. She had the long, pointed ears common to her people and pale, pinkish skin.
Her people had been driven from their lands nearly ten years earlier.
The Great Purge, as it had come to be known.
Arkteriz was one of the survivors.
She rarely spoke.
Iaral had learned not to press her.
There were wounds that did not bleed, and the wars in the south had left more than enough of those behind. Whatever she had seen there had made her quieter than most children her age.
At least, by human standards.
Arkteriz was around thirty years old.
To an elf, however, she was still a child, only beginning the transition toward adolescence.
The second was Gmet.
A Shadowspawn, he was the great-great-grandson of half-demons, or perhaps descended from some other branch of those creatures. No one seemed entirely certain anymore.
Whatever demonic blood had once flowed through his ancestors had been diluted over generations.
If not for his gray skin, black eyes, and small tail, there was little that would distinguish him from any other child.
His fangs were only slightly longer than a human’s, and when his mouth was closed they were barely noticeable.
Like many of his kind, Gmet had been left to fend for himself in the streets of one of the larger cities.
Judging by the state of his clothes, he had not been doing particularly well.
The last of them was Darren.
A human boy with brown hair and a habit of talking far more than he should.
Whenever he became nervous, he talked even more.
People said he had no filter between his brain and his tongue. Whatever entered his mind seemed to come out of his mouth before he had the chance to consider the consequences.
Iaral had already begun to suspect that this would either make Darren very useful or become a considerable problem.
Probably both.
The three children were approximately twelve years old.
At least, that was true for Darren and Gmet.
Arkteriz’s age made the matter considerably more complicated.
All three were now traveling toward the Temple of Sirat, one of the many temples belonging to the Order of the Guardians of Dawn.
Sirat, however, was different from the others.
It was the heart of the Order’s power and knowledge.
New recruits were brought there to train, learn the ways of the Guardians, and eventually become the warriors the Order needed.
Iaral glanced back at the wagon.
Three children.
Three different peoples.
Three very different lives.
And, if his judgment was correct, three children who might one day become Guardians of the Dawn.
He turned his attention back to the road.
The Temple of Sirat was still several days away.
— I heard that not everyone who arrives at Sirat manages to pass the tests.
Darren was sitting on the wagon’s bench, talking for some time now, though no one could remember exactly when he had started.
— I mean, it makes sense. They can’t just let anyone become a Guardian. But I heard that those who don’t pass…
He paused.
He looked at Iaral.
Then at Arkteriz.
Finally, at Gmet.
— …become dragon food.
Arkteriz made a face.
— Dragon food? — Gmet asked.
— That’s what I was told.
— Who told you?
Darren thought for a few seconds.
— A man at a tavern.
Iaral kept his eyes on the road.
— And did he have any reason to know that?
— I don’t know.
— Then why did you believe him?
Darren shrugged.
— Because he looked like he knew what he was talking about.
Iaral let out a sigh.
Darren continued.
— But that’s not even the worst part. They say the old man punishes cadets when they do something wrong.
Arkteriz looked at him.
— The old man?
— Giad. The Grand Master.
Darren lowered his voice, as if he were sharing a secret.
— They say he makes worms crawl underneath their skin.
Arkteriz immediately made another face, this one much worse.
Gmet frowned.
— What kind of worms?
— I don’t know. Big ones, I think.
— Why?
— Because if they were small, it wouldn’t be much of a punishment.
Arkteriz rubbed her arm.
— They stay… inside?
— Inside.
— And you can’t get them out?
— I don’t know.
— Then how do you know it happens?
Darren was silent for a moment.
— The man at the tavern said so.
Arkteriz closed her eyes.
— Do you believe everything people tell you?
— No.
Darren thought about it again.
— Just the things that sound possible.
Iaral finally looked back.
— And all of this came from a single man?
— No.
Darren smiled.
— There was also a woman who said the Guardians eat children for dinner.
Arkteriz’s eyes widened.
— That doesn’t make any sense.
— I thought so too. Children don’t seem like a very good meal.
Gmet stared at Darren for a few seconds.
— You talk too much.
— I know.
Darren smiled again.
— It’s just that when I get nervous, I talk.
— Are you nervous?
— A little.
Gmet looked toward the road.
— I’m not.
Darren waited.
— Are you excited?
Gmet took a few seconds before answering.
— I am.
Darren was quiet for the first time in several minutes.
Gmet looked down at his feet.
— It must be nice.
— What’s that? — Darren asked.
— Having a family.
Arkteriz looked at him.
Gmet continued, as if he were speaking more to himself than to the others.
— A family that looks after you. That knows where you are. That waits for you to come back.
He raised his eyes toward the road disappearing into the horizon.
— That’s how it’s going to be in Sirat.
Darren didn’t answer.
Neither did Arkteriz.
For a few moments, only the sound of the wheels against the road filled the silence.
Gmet smiled.
— It’s going to be good.
The road began to climb.
For a while, the children said nothing. Ahead of them, two enormous mountains rose on either side of the road, forming a narrow valley between them.
The wagon continued along the path that cut through the valley.
Then Darren saw it.
— Wow…
A gigantic wall blocked the passage between the mountains.
It was so tall that Darren had to tilt his head back to see the top. Great blocks of stone formed the structure, reinforced by towers and lookout platforms.
Arkteriz slowly raised her eyes.
She had seen walls before, but never one of that size. The structure seemed to be part of the mountains themselves. For a few moments, she forgot where she was and simply stared at the stones, the towers, and the men positioned along them.
Gmet said nothing either.
His black eyes traveled from the bottom of the wall to its highest point.
— They built all this? — he asked.
— Looks like it — Darren replied.
— Why?
Darren looked at him.
— To keep people out.
Gmet thought about it for a moment.
— Or to keep people in.
Darren fell silent.
Iaral pulled on the reins.
The horses slowed as they approached the guards protecting the entrance.
One of the soldiers gave a signal.
The gate began to open.
The enormous wooden and iron doors moved slowly, groaning beneath their own weight.
Arkteriz flinched slightly at the sound.
Gmet, on the other hand, leaned forward, trying to see what lay beyond.
The wagon passed through.
On the other side of the gate, the valley opened up.
And then they saw the Temple of Sirat.
Darren’s mouth fell open.
So did Arkteriz’s.
For a few seconds, none of the three could find the words.
The courtyard was enormous.
Hundreds of soldiers and cadets occupied the grounds, training in groups scattered throughout the area. Swords clashed against each other, shields took blows, arrows flew toward targets, and voices shouted commands from every direction.
Arkteriz followed every movement with her eyes.
One soldier knocked his opponent down with a sword strike.
Another took a blow against his shield and stumbled backward.
Farther away, a group was practicing some kind of magic, small bursts of light illuminating the courtyard.
She clasped her hands in her lap.
There were too many people.
Too much noise.
Too much happening at once.
Part of her wanted to look at everything.
Another part wanted to hide.
Gmet seemed to have completely forgotten that he was sitting in a wagon.
His eyes wandered across the courtyard, fascinated.
He watched the soldiers, the weapons, the armor, and the different peoples walking around.
Humans. Elves. Dwarves. Shadowspawn. All together.
Gmet could not remember the last time he had seen so many of his own kind in one place.
A small smile appeared on his face.
— There are others like me.
Darren looked at him.
— Of course there are.
Gmet didn’t answer.
He kept looking.
To him, it seemed impossible.
Throughout his entire life, people like him had been treated as something that should remain hidden, something that should be grateful for a piece of food or a place to sleep.
Here, there were Shadowspawn wearing armor.
Carrying weapons.
Training alongside everyone else.
Being part of something.
Farther back stood the temple’s main building.
It was a monumental structure, shaped like a pyramid, with several levels that became progressively smaller as they rose.
Arkteriz lifted her eyes toward the top.
— Is that a temple?
Iaral nodded.
— The main one.
She continued staring.
The architecture was unlike anything she had ever seen. The enormous columns, the stairways, the terraces, and the stone walls made the place seem almost impossible to comprehend.
Five towers stood around the main temple.
Tall and imposing.
Each represented one of the Order’s five Ways and housed the knowledge related to that particular discipline.
The Way of the Blade.
The Way of the Veil.
The Way of the Arcane.
The Way of the Shadow.
The Way of the Wilderness.
Arkteriz studied the five towers.
For the first time since leaving the southern lands, she felt something resembling curiosity.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But curiosity.
Gmet was still looking at everything.
— So this is where we’re going to live?
— No — Iaral replied. — The barracks are over there.
He pointed toward an area farther away from the main temple.
Darren followed his gesture.
— And over there?
— The dining halls.
Darren smiled.
— That’s important.
Arkteriz looked at him.
— You just saw the greatest temple you’ve ever seen and you’re thinking about food?
— I’m thinking about several things. Food is one of them.
Gmet let out a small laugh.
It was the first time Arkteriz had seen the boy genuinely smile.
Iaral guided the wagon toward the center of the courtyard.
The children continued looking around.
The place still seemed too large.
Too large to be real.
Too large to belong to them.
Until Iaral finally stopped the horses.
Five people stood before them.
Five officers of the Order.
Darren looked at the first.
An elf with green hair and slightly green skin. His bluish eyes watched the children with an expression that made it clear he had very little patience.
Beside him stood a dark-skinned, bald man with a thick beard.
A blonde woman stood beside them, watching the children with a calm smile.
Farther back stood a man whose appearance made Darren forget all the stories about dragons.
Red skin.
Two curved black horns.
Catlike eyes.
Fangs protruding beyond his lips.
And a long tail moving slowly behind him.
Darren froze.
Arkteriz also stood still.
Her eyes fixed on the horns.
Then the fangs.
Then the tail.
She said nothing, but instinctively took half a step back.
Gmet noticed.
He looked at Xor.
Then at Arkteriz.
— He’s a Shadowspawn — he said.
Arkteriz nodded slowly.
— I know.
There was something different in her voice.
It wasn’t exactly fear.
It was recognition.
Perhaps for the first time, she was standing before someone who also carried a history in his body that others judged before ever knowing him.
Darren swallowed.
— Is he one of the teachers?
Gmet looked at him.
— Looks like it.
Darren lowered his voice.
— Is he going to eat us?
Xor raised an eyebrow.
Darren turned even paler.
Gmet tried to hold back his laughter.
He couldn’t.
Arkteriz covered her mouth with her hand to hide a small smile.
Iaral couldn’t hide his either. It was a strange beginning. But it was a beginning.
— Children, these are the five senior officers responsible for the Order’s Ways.
The elf stepped forward.
— Ilstad.
His voice was dry.
— Senior Officer of the Way of the Blade.
He looked at the three of them.
— You will spend the next few months with me.
Darren looked at him.
— But I didn’t choose the Way of the Blade.
Ilstad stared at him.
— I know.
Darren waited.
— Then why…
— Because you haven’t chosen a Way yet.
Darren closed his mouth.
Ilstad continued:
— Before you decide where you want to go, you need to learn the basics that will keep you alive long enough to get there.
He pointed toward the courtyard.
— Combat. Movement. Defense. Discipline.
Then he looked at each of them.
— Every Guardian knows how to fight.
Darren looked at Xor again.
This time, he tried not to show his fear.
He failed.
Ilstad turned and began walking.
— Come.
The three remained standing there for a few seconds.
Then they followed him.
Iaral watched as the children walked away.
He had found three potential Guardians.
Now it was up to the Order to discover what truly lay within them.