“Why aren’t you with your new sisters?” Alenna asked.

Surrounded by training equipment, Teldris sat on the landing outside the temple beneath the cover of white cotton clouds. Her sisters were two distant dots on the golden stretch of beach that snaked the coast of Penth.

Two weeks had passed since Berand had arrived in Penth with the new wards in tow. To Alenna and Teldris’ dismay, they were very young. Alenna because that meant her duties as Matron had extended until the youngest, Hania, who was no more than a babbling toddler, would pass her commencement on her sixteenth summer. And Teldris because she still had no one her age to play with.

Anariel was no older than seven summers while Teldris approached fourteen.

Teldris looked down to the gleaming blade of her new sword. It was a great upgrade from the ones she had been given since she could walk. With the same bluntness as her old wooden swords, Teldris said: “I’m not with them because I don’t like them.”

Alenna, taken aback by the girl’s forwardness, wondered where the bright-eyed child they brought from Balehold had gone.

If Teldris knew to answer the Matron’s unspoken question, she would say that she had been cross since her father had left without her once again. That she had been broken-hearted since they had moved to Penth and while the village children once welcomed her, Teldris found that she felt out of place among them. And they felt it too.

Now Teldris watched Alenna. Her eyes, once light, had darkened to a deep violet with age. Once round and large on her face, they slimmed to conform to the hint of sharpness in her cheekbones. Her lips stretched into a thin line across her face as she waited for a scolding.

“What don’t you like about them, child?” Alenna asked. “What have they done?”

“They don’t do anything, Matron. And the other girls call Anariel ‘Antsy Ana’.”

“That’s not right, ” Alenna said with a sigh.

Teldris propped her sword along the dry stone wall that separated the land around the temple from the craggy bluffs below. She worried at her lips with her teeth as if just repeating the nickname would get her in trouble.

Alenna paid the name no mind. What bothered her more was what Teldris thought of the girls. A division between the wards was something the Order could not afford. Not when the number of wardens was dwindling.

She took a seat beside Teldris. The girl had done a poor job of her braid so she began to undo Teldris’ hair, combing her fingers through the sections as she spoke. “They like to play just like you do. Anariel trains hard even if she is not as enduring as you are. I’ll admit that Hania might be too young but you were as troublesome as she was when you were her age.”

“Anariel does not speak,” Teldris said. “She squeaks. And just when she’s scared but she’s also scared all the time.” Teldris frowned, not because Alenna tugged on her hair so roughly that it seemed like her eyebrows were being dragged along her forehead, but because Teldris was unsure if she agreed with what she was about to say. “Mia says that they do not belong here. They belong in Victon where they come from.”

“I came from Victon,” Alenna said in a warning tone. “Should I go back as well all because Mia said so? Beyond Dragonspine and weeks away from Penth?”

Teldris twisted around so quickly, she yanked the half-done braid out from Alenna’s working fingers. “No!” Her little mouth made a large and shrinking ‘o’.

“Why not?” Alenna scrunched her face in confusion in order to hide her smile. A shout from the beach below drew both their attention. They watched as Hania tumbled toward the reaching waves and Anariel chased after her sister.

Teldris’ little heart pounded at the thought of losing the Matron. Who would teach her to be a great warden? Who would heal her wounds when she hurt herself? And she would need to eat. She would need water. “Because I need you,” Teldris finally said. The tugging on her braid resumed and Teldris settled back in her seat.

“Well your sisters need me as well,” Alenna said in all seriousness. “And they need you.” She secured Teldris’ hair with a thin yellow cord, giving it a quick pat as it rested against the girl’s back. “Do you know all the great things about Sir Navin?” Alenna asked. “You still remember the ballad, don’t you?”

Teldris nodded solemnly. She would never forget Sir Navin of the Ash. A ballad she had demanded night after night as a child. She could recite it by heart if asked of her.

“What is it that he was known for?”

“He was brave,” Teldris said, holding out her index finger against the palm of her other hand as if to count. “He fought Kraksuura the sand daemon and won. He was strong enough to tame the lions of Lilaqua.” Teldris said the last word slowly as she always had trouble pronouncing it. She unfolded another finger. “He was clever and swift, fighting the Fallow Horde in just rags and a blacksmith’s ha—”

“It’s not his fight with the Fallow Horde that was important,” Alenna cut in. “It was that he shed all his belongings to build the wall around Dent that helped them survive the fight with the Fallow Horde. He sacrificed to protect a village that no one else cared for. When all the lords were holed up in their forts watching from afar, Sir Navin stood for the weak. He empowered those who were able and protected those who weren’t. That is why we love Sir Navin.”

Teldris narrowed her eyes at Alenna. She knew now that it was a lesson and was less than thrilled to discuss her favorite legend.

Alenna ignored the impatient look her ward had given her, placing a heavy hand over Teldris’ hands. “Sir Navin not only had great physical prowess. He had patience, compassion, humility. These are what truly make a warden great.”

Alenna paused to take Teldris’ sword into her hands, and laid it across her own lap, brushing her hand fondly across its scabbard, brand new and free of any scuffs. Recalling her own childhood, she hoped that it would remain this way for some time yet. Shining and clean.

Teldris had grown too quickly. In just over two years, the ward would move on with her commencement. She would know the world beyond and the horror it could bring. And a year after that, it would be Teldris that was the bastion against that darkness.

Alenna sighed and tucked the sword between her legs so that the hilt rested above her thighs. “Now I can have you lift those weights or run up and down the temple stairs until you are physical perfection.” The pommel was so polished that Alenna could see her reflection, her face warped and dark. The noonday sun limned the crown of her head, a gleaming orb that lit her hair on fire. “I can drill you with everything I know about the sword arts until you’ve got the First Crown on his knees.” Alenna took the leather straps and tied them into a peace knot, securing the blade in its sheath. She gave the handle a tug to be certain. “But these three things that make a warden truly great, that make kings bow and goddesses weep, these things can only be something you accept into your heart.”

Teldris pursed her lips. When she spoke, she spoke softly, “Is Sir Navin a real man?”

Alenna smiled. “He is. He was. Now he is gone and there is none like him. But we must always strive to be like him. Why else would we sing his ballad, if not to remind ourselves what the best of us could be?”

A wind carried the scent of the ocean from below them, sending goosebumps up Teldris’ exposed arms. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She glanced down as Alenna laid the sword across her lap, the intricate peace knot woven over the hilt and blade. The sun was in her eyes when she looked up at the Matron sitting beside her.

“Now tell me, Teldris.” Alenna’s eyes were dark amber in the sun. “What kind of warden do you want to be?”