Sunlight fell across Renya's face and roused her from sleep.

Renya kicked the covers from her bed and swung her bare feet over the edge of her mattress. Her eyes darted to the window; the sun sat nestled above thin, wispy clouds. Odd, she thought. The Priestess should've woken her up hours ago and set her on the daily chores.

Vision still bleary, Renya reached out for the nightstand beside her bed but came up with nothing but the cool touch of wood. Then, she brought her hand up to her bespectacled face and sighed. She had slept with her spectacles again. It had become a habit and a difficult one to break.

"People are made up of bad habits," the Priestess had once told her. "To overcome such habits is a test given to us by the Will."

Enough time spent dawdling in bed, Renya decided. The Divine Will abhorred laziness above all else. If the Priestess didn't have anything for her to do, she'd find something herself.

She wiped herself down with a damp towel and dressed hastily. Renya decided on a simple blouse and a calf-length skirt. The Priestess would find this unfashionable, as to her, only traditional wraps of the temple were appropriate for a follower of the Divine Will.

The temple was empty, with no sign of Qilen or the Priestess. After yesterday's dinner, Renya went straight to bed, even forgoing her nightly prayers. His words had stuck with her all night, however, which made for poor sleep. So many things she hadn't heard of; The War of the Tree. The Keepers. It was as if her entire world expanded overnight.

One shock after another, Renya mused. It was a wonder how she was taking it all so well. But she figured lingering on the matter wouldn't help. She needed to throw herself at something tangible, at least until she could squeeze more information from both of them.

Renya double-checked to make sure the doors were shut securely before heading down to the village. Although the weather had cooled considerably since the day before, it was still comfortably warm.

Her head still filled with murky, confusing thoughts, Renya eventually reached Silverleaf proper. The Center was bustling today, with the village men erecting a large wooden stage. A group of young children watched excitedly from the side. Renya could pick out a few faces she recognized from Qilen's performance. She was sure he had something to do with this.

The Priestess wouldn't like this.

"This is nonsense," a bitter voice announced. "A single storyman and the entire village loses it." Sujin, his face cold as ice like always, marched toward her. "They're putting a festival on for him. I say let the storyman tell his tall tales in the taproom of the inn. We don't need a useless stage that's going to be torn down after all this nonsense."

She frowned. Sujin wasn't there when Qilen put on his act. He was no simple storyman. Not the kind they were familiar with, at least.

"That brat's nothing but trouble," he continued. "The men should be out farming and working, not wasting time on this."

Tuning out the rest of his rant, she noticed a sheathed dagger at his hip. There was a slight curve to the blade, as well as an engraving of a leaf on the sheath. The hilt was wrapped in patterned red cloth, a color seldom seen in Silverleaf Village.

Sujin must've noticed her gaze since he drew the dagger from its sheath and held it up to the sky awkwardly. "Father gave this to me," he said softly, "told me it's an heirloom passed down from one Mayor to another."

Puzzled, she cocked her. "Why would the Mayor give it to you then? You obviously aren't taking his position any time soon. Unless he thinks. . ."

Sujin fell silent, his gaze cast down at her shoes.

"What would you even do with that thing?" Renya finally asked. "Only reason why anyone would need a blade here is cutting rope and whittling. And that's no knife to be doing chores with."

"That's not the point," Sujin muttered. "I think it means he sees me as an adult. That I can take on some responsibility now."

"Point? Dagger?" she glanced at the dagger and then at his face. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

He glared at Renya. "Am I laughing?"

"No," she replied dryly, "I don't suppose you are."

In a more serious tone, she continued, "Don't think too hard about it. The Mayor still has decades left to lord over us."

He snorted. "I was never worried about that."

"Good to know," she said. "Heavens knows what would happen if you ever show real concern for another human being."

"I just feel. . ." Sujin's words trailed off as he brought his hand up to his forehead and sighed.

"Now you're feeling things?" Renya teased. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Sujin?"

Renya opened her mouth for another verbal jab, but Sujin cut her off in a quiet voice. "You're. . . strange today." He stared at her intently. "I, er, never mind."

She blinked. It wasn't like Sujin to be lost for words. If there was one other thing she knew about him besides being perpetually moody, it was his insistence on always having the last laugh.

"I need to talk to you later, when the sun sets." He studied her, emotion in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. He gave one last snort before turning away to leave, but not before adding: "I'll be waiting outside the temple, so don't be late."

A light breeze ruffled her hair as she watched him stomp away. Renya had a feeling she would never truly understand that boy. He was a stickler for the rules, which often put him on the opposing side of all the other village children. But despite it, he was never malicious to anyone, although a little demanding. Renya could think of none more fit than him to one day take the Mayor's place.

The sharp staccato hammering of a nail being driven into wood interrupted her train of thought.

Renya considered helping with the construction but figured she'd only get in the way. Hard labor was not her area of expertise.

Around this time of the day, the inn always needed extra hands. Renya decided to try her luck there. If the Divine willed it, there would be some stew for her to stir.

. . .

As it turned out, there was no stew for her to stir. The inn cook, Li Yorba, didn't need as much help now that she had an assistant in the kitchen; a slender, wide-eyed girl only a few years older than Renya.

". . . if you don't start pulling your weight around here," Li Yorba was saying to the new assistant, "I'll have you shoveling horse dung in the stables! Understood?"

"I understand," the assistant girl said weakly, her face pale.

Li Yorba scoffed. "Now, get me my fruits, and don't bother coming back without them."

"Old Sami will never let me into his orchard," the assistant girl whined, stamping her feet. "And he's always got those wolfhounds watching at the gates!"

"That's your issue," Li Yorba said, waving the girl away. "You've got until I'm finished with my stew."

With that, the assistant girl flashed one last contemptuous look at the cook before storming off through the door. A string of foul-mouthed curses followed after her, eventually fading to silence.

Li Yorba shook her head before returning to her tasks. "The girl can't even peel yams right."

"So why take her on?"

The cook bent down under the counter, disappearing from Renya's view. "Ain't no one else interested in cooking," she said. "Give me a few years, and I'll make a half-decent cook out of her."

She reappeared with a crate of colorful assorted vegetables in her thick arms. "She's no master chef material," Li Yorba continued, "but anyone can learn how to cook." The cook set the crate down on the table and picked out a pale-gold carrot. The carrot had a healthy golden sheen to it. The specialty of Farmer Landra, his carrots were sought after the most in Silverleaf Village.

"I saw the Priestess arguing with the Mayor earlier," Li Yorba said offhandedly, hacking away at a pale-gold carrot. "She didn't look none too pleased with him. But when does the Priestess ever look pleased?"

"Was it a bad fight?" Renya asked.

"Worse than any I've seen before," Li Yorba said, sliding chunks of carrot to the side with her knife. She unhooked a bundle of chives from the ceiling rack and placed it on her board. "The last thing I wanted was to involve myself in that mess, so I just turned the other way. But now I'm a little curious. Tell me, girl, know anything about all this?"

"I thought you hated nosy people?" Renya rose from her stool and made her way to the counter beside Li Yorba.

With the click of her tongue and a wag of her finger, Li Yorba shook her head at Renya. "I hate it when people pry into my business," she said, beginning to mince the chives. "Got no problem with doing it to others."

Renya grimaced and nodded helplessly. The cook was notorious for her grating personality, rivaled only by Lai Teri. She could recall hearing about a bitter feud between the two women in the past. Renya was still young enough to be carried in the Priestess's arms then.

"Is there really nothing for me to do?" Renya asked, picking a gnarled root out from a crate underneath the counter.

Li Yorba sighed. "Here," she said, pulling out a sheathed knife from her apron pocket. "Since you're so desperate for work, start with that root. But only until that girl gets back."

Renya hummed in agreement, years of practice taking over. It took but a moment to skin the root and begin dividing it into even slices.

Li Yorba tossed a sideways glance in her direction. "You're getting good," she admitted begrudgingly. "I'd have made you my assistant if it wasn't for that witch always hanging over you. The last thing someone your age needs is to be constantly coddled. In the end, ain't no one but yourself to rely on; not your family, not your friends, not the mysterious god hiding up in the skies."

Renya continued chopping, rolling her eyes. "The Will isn't a singular entity. It's the all-encompassing life force that sustains us. We are at the mercy of-"

"The Divine Will in all aspects of our life," Li Yorba finished. "I've heard it all a million times before, and I'll say it a million times again, ain't interested."

With a taut frown, Renya put down her knife. "The Priestess says-"

"Priestess again?" Li Yorba interrupted. "Priestess says this, and Priestess says that. You have to learn to think for yourself, girl. Go out and see the world for yourself, don't let the Priestess and her vague sense of duty chain you down in this backwater."

"There's nothing out there," Renya muttered. "The Priestess-"

Again the cook interrupted. "You're doing it again, girl. You're nearly full-grown now and still parroting what your elders say." Li Yorba sighed. "I've been through it all before," she added in a gentler voice. "So take my word on it when I know what a young girl like you needs. Ask questions. Find your path. There's so much out there you can't possibly understand yet."

"You've been outside the village?" Renya asked, studying Li Yorba with wide, curious eyes. "No one's been outside the village."

Li Yorba snorted. "The Mayor's been as far as the Edgelands, and I've been even further. I trained with Master Chef Di Verda himself in the Walled City, Shaizu of the Clouds."

Renya leaned closer to the cook. "What was it like outside?" she asked in a quiet voice. "Do they really eat the flesh of newborns?"

A look of confusion slowly spread across Li Yorba's face, and then she burst into laughter. "What? Newborn flesh?" she forced out, gasping for breath. "Where did you hear something like that?" Li Yorba wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "That fool Priestess told you that, I reckon. But I suppose you're the bigger fool for listening to her nonsense."

"Listen here, girl. Forget everything you ever learned about the outside. It's all just tall tales concocted to scare you from ever taking a step off village grounds. There's a marvelous world out there, girl. Beasts of fantastical origin are as common as weeds and a powerful hero on every street corner."

"What about Keepers?" Renya picked her knife back up and started slicing again. "I heard they were involved in a conflict with our church."

"Oh?" Li Yorba asked, making her way over to one of the several boiling pots on the stove. "That's old history."

"I'm just curious," Renya said. "It's you who encouraged me to start asking questions."

Li Yorba froze, then turned to Renya. "So, I reckon that stranger is a Keeper. Makes sense. The Mayor wouldn't throw a festival for a simple storyman, no matter how talented. And there's the matter of that as well."

"That?"

"The Mayor ran off around the same time I did and returned just a few months after me. He was caught up in nasty business as a traveling guard. After his merchant convoy got wiped out, it was a Keeper that saved him." Li Yorba let a sad sigh. "He was never the same when he came back. There was nothing left for him. His father died while he was away, and his mother soon followed. It didn't take long before he turned to drink. It helped when he met Su Sazha. But she didn't have long left either, died during childbirth. Ain't right for someone to suffer so much. But what can you do? Just the way the river of life flows."

"I didn't know any of this," Renya said. Guiltily, she recalled all the times a snide remark was thrown his way in her head. "Does Sujin know?"

Li Yorba cracked open the lid of a steaming pot just slightly and took a deep sniff before returning to her place at the counter. "I doubt the boy knows anything about his father's past. The Mayor doesn't like people talking about his life. So, I reckon it would be wise to keep everything I told you under sealed lips."

The door to the kitchen blew open, startling Renya. The assistant girl stood in the doorway, in her arms, a basket filled to the brim with red, lumpy fruits.

"How," Li Yorba asked, "did you get away with that? You'd have to force that old coot by spearpoint to make him part with so many fruits. Unless you. . ."

The triumphant look on the assistant girl's face quickly faded, replaced by confusion. "I snuck in and picked these. All it took was a little jerky to bribe his wolfhounds, and that was that. I assumed-"

The cook cut her off with a raised hand. "Your first thought was to sneak into his orchard like a common thief?"

The assistant girl shrugged. "I can return the fruits if you want."

"No, no," Li Yorba said, waving her hand. "I'll just make it up to him later. Just place them on the counter, and you're off for the day."

The assistant girl did what she was told, then placed a hand on her hip and faced Li Yorba with a lifted chin. "Am I being let off for the day? Or forever? Sounds a lot to me like you're letting me go permanently. My mother will kill me if I lose another job. If you're mad about the fruits, I promise not to do it again."

"Come back tomorrow morning," Li Yorba said blandly. "And while you're at it, take Renya with you to do whatever you village girls do."

The assistant girl tossed a disinterested glance in Renya's direction before giving Li Yora a slight nod.

Renya started to protest, but Li Yorba was already shoving the both of them out the door. "Remember what I told you, Renya," she said. "It's time you make your own choices." And with that, the cook shut the door in Renya's face.