EIGHT YEARS LATER.

Arn squinted at the warm sunlight filtering through the trees up ahead. He knew that the forest's serenity would soon give way to the bustle and commotion of Nysaros. Already the metal on metal clanking of the industrial sector reached his ears: clink-clank, clink, clink, clank.

He stepped out onto the viewing field - an open area, two hundred feet in each direction of Nysaros. Arn always felt that the forest didn't wish to be close to the town and its noise, so the trees slowly shambled away from it. He walked upon the hard-packed snow of the road into town. A myriad of undiscernible foot and hoofprints made it as hard as the frozen ground.

Arn wore a light parka with wolf-pelt shoulders and chest cover. He tugged at the worn straps of his backpack, now filled with supplies for his grandmother's apothecary shop. Deep in thought as he was, Arn nearly passed right by his younger sister, Sarhaa, as she waited for him by one of the buildings.

"Hey!" Sarhaa called out to him.

Arn did a double-take upon seeing her. "Hey," he said and walked back a few steps towards her.

"I was watching you the entire time from the forest, across the field, and until you almost passed right by me," she pouted.

"Dad give you the rest of the supplies for mama Elo's apothecary?" Arn asked.

"Yes," Sarhaa replied.

"Ok, let's go then."

The Stonefather Apothecary Shop was all the way at the other side of the industrial sector, right on the border to the residential sector of Nysaros. Arn and Sarhaa held their noses while passing near a leatherworking shop - he could never get used to the horrendous smell that wafted from the place. Loud hissing, bubbling, cracking, and other odours followed until the two of them resolved to run in an effort to escape the Dirty Block the sooner.

"How can people work there?" Sarhaa asked once the air was breathable again.

"I don't know," Arn said, taking a deep breath himself. "Can't you come to the other town entrance?" He looked back, "so we don't have to keep going through there?"

"It's too far," Sarhaa replied, "ma won't let me."

Arn shook his head, "alright, fine, let's just go."

"So, how was it?" Sarhaa asked.

"How was what?" Arn replied.

"The forest." Sarhaa jogged to catch up with Arn.

"Fine."

"See anything interesting?" she persisted.

"No," Arn shot back, "all I do is walk through the forest around town and pick up mushrooms and other useless things, you know."

"At least you get to go into the forest," she sighed.

"Yeah, but it's not like when Kenon used to sneak me out. Back then, he climbed the trees, went up the old rockface," Arn kicked at a rock, sending a pang of pain into his toe.

"I don't get to go anywhere," Sarhaa said after a short pause.

"I don't understand why parents are so worried. I am as old as Kenon was back then," Arn didn't hear her words.

"You should have seen mom when they brought you home," Sarhaa said.

"You were four; what do you know?" he replied.

"I know a lot," Sarhaa shot back, "you were asleep, so you don't know."

Arn gave her a frustrated look. "Fine, fine," he said and let out a low breath, "But it cured me of the weakness, didn't it?"

"You don't remember anything at all?" Sarhaa asked.

"From what happened in the forest? Nope," Arn said.

"Kenon said that mom and dad almost threw him into the river."

Arn chuckled, "I don't know what they were so upset about. It cured me; they should be happy. What's the big deal?" his voice rose as he spoke, which earned him a few judging glares from the people on the streets.

"I don't know." Sarhaa looked down at the dirty snow as she walked.

"Yeah, I don't know either," Arn replied.

They followed the main road in silence for a while. Arn looked at the old workshops and warehouses, with their ornamented facades and fancy, wrought-iron signs. He knew that the back and sides of each building were plain rock and wood.

"They'll have to let me go wherever I want soon, so..." Arn said.

Sarhaa looked at him, her brows knotted up.

"I bet I'll be getting the first summons letter from the Inspectorate any day now. After that, I'll officially be an adult, and they can't tell me what to do," Arn said smugly.

"They still told Kenon what to do after he came back from his," Sarhaa said.

Arn grimaced. "Well," he said, "they won't tell me!"

"Where do you think they'll send you?" Sarhaa asked.

"Ugh, probably someplace boring, like the Heartland mom keeps talking about," Arn said and had to step to the side to let a man with a large wheelbarrow pass by.

"I would go to the Heartland," Sarhaa said, "it sounds beautiful; I wish I could go there."

"I hope that they send me somewhere dangerous. I don't want to waste my time doing a boring summons," Arn said.

"I hope it's a safe place..." Sarhaa said in a small voice.

Arn took a deep breath. "Don't worry, Sarhaa," he said, "even if they send me to a dangerous place, it isn't a real dangerous place. You know what I mean?"

"How do you know?" Sarhaa pouted.

Arn rolled his eyes. "They send the real Inspectorate," he snapped his fingers, "what's the word for them? Ugh, I can't remember - you know who I mean, right?"

"Yes," Sarhaa said.

"Ok, well, that's who they send to the really dangerous places. I just don't want my first summons to be boring. I'm not a girl," he winked at her.

"Hey! Don't say stupid things," Sarhaa protested and punched his parka-clad arm. It didn't hurt. He barely even felt it.

"Sorry," he said, "don't worry, Sarhaa, with my luck, it will be the most boring one ever," he winked at her.

"Good," Sarhaa said, a hint of a smile crossing her face.

Arn and his sister had finally reached the Apothecary Shop. It was a small, stand-alone building with a base of large, irregularly shaped rocks. It had several small slits for windows and an ornate archway with the words "Sontefather Apothecary" engraved at the top. Arn opened the heavy wooden door and let his sister into the foyer. The two of them shook and knocked their boots to get rid of excess snow. Then they stepped through the curtain of pelts that insulated the inner hall from the cold.

"Ma, pa?"

"Hi, kids," his mother replied, a smile on her face. She wore a long patterned sweater and a thick belt around her waist. The buckle was an ornate Stonefather crest. Arn's father smiled and nodded at each of them.

"We just wanted to catch you two here before you get back to the clan house," Arn's father said.

"Why? Did something happen?" Arn asked.

"Something happen? No, nothing happened," his father chuckled. He adjusted the sleeves of his black sweater and leaned on a counter behind Arn's mother.

"We just wanted to talk to you first," his mother said to Arn. Sarhaa mouthed 'of course' and rolled her eyes.

Arn's grandmother, meanwhile, approached the two siblings and reached for Arn's backpack.

"No, mamma Elo, it's too heavy," Arn protested.

"Pshaw," she waved him off and deftly slung the backpack over her shoulder. Arn watched her disappear behind the counter and then turned his attention back to his parents.

"You got your summons," his mother beamed.

"What?" Arn said, the information not yet registering with his mind.

"Your first summons, Arn!" his father said.

"I told you!" Arn turned to Sarhaa, then turned back to his parents, "that's great - where am I going?"

Arn's mother took out a large parchment envelope, sealed with a wax seal and the Inspectorate symbol on it. Unbroken. She must have noticed his expression.

"It's a bad omen for anyone but the recipient to open it," she said.

Thank Elar'Saga for bad omens. Clearly, privacy means nothing here, he thought as he took the envelope. The seal crumbled when he pressed it; Arn retrieved the letter and quickly skimmed the contents.

"Bordertown history?" he mumbled, brows scrunched up.

"What?" his father asked.

"It says I will be going in as a border town history scholar - just starting on the Lonthlarad," Arn replied, eyes still fixed upon the letter.

His father humphed, "interesting."

"I don't know anything about that," Arn mumbled.

"Oh, don't worry, you're so young, they will assume you just began your Lonthlarad, erm, your scholar's journey," his mother said.

"What if someone recognizes me?" Arn asked.

"You worry too much, son," his father said, "you'll be going far enough that no one will recognize you. We've all gone through this, albeit not the same cover story," he motioned at Arn's letter, "each was equally unknown to us at the onset."

"Yeah? You didn't know your cover?" Arn asked, glancing up at his parents.

"Not a clue," his mother said, "I went in as a surveyor of grasslands," she added.

Arn chuckled at that. "How hard can it be, I guess? I have three weeks," he said.

"Where are you going?" Sarhaa asked.

"It doesn't say," Arn replied.

"You won't know until the day they pick you up," his father said.

"Does it say how long you'll be gone for?" Sarhaa asked.

"Six weeks," Arn replied.

"Oh? Then it shouldn't be too far," his father said.

"I just hope it's more exciting than the Heartland," Arn mumbled.

Arn's parents glanced at each other.

"What?" Arn asked them.

"Nothing," his mother said.

"Come now, let us go back to the clan house. We are yet to tell the rest of the clan," his father said and motioned them all out of the shop.

Arn winced at the thought.

"Your grandmother will finish up here and join us for the dinner ceremony," his mother added.

***Nyra***

The four of them exited the Apothecary Shop; Arn and Sarhaa walked a few steps ahead, happily chatting among themselves.

"I don't like this," Nyra said.

"It is what it is," Atrel replied.

"That's our son!"

"Keep your voice down. What do you want me to do? It's the Inspectorate."

"Border towns, of all things," she said.

"We'll deal with it if it comes to that," Atrel said.

"He can't be looking over his shoulder,"

"I know."

"He'll need to focus on the inspection itself. It's his first time, Atrel!" Nyra said.

"We all had a first time," Atrel replied.

"I just worry -"

"Nyra, listen to me. There is nothing we can do. We just have to trust in Arn," he said.

"I suppose we do," Nyra sighed.