It was sad to say farewell but I knew that it would only be temporary. It wasn’t as though I would be leaving Wardwatch forever. Although the only instructions I had received when I handed over my slip of paper were to be back at the apprenticeship office by sixth bell and for the love of all that I held holy to be on time. The clerk had been particularly clear about that.

There must be a camp of some description, out there beyond the walls and the fields, somewhere that I would be fed and watered and made to run. I was envisioning laps, round and around as I was yelled at by some hypothetical drill sergeant-esque figure. Or perhaps we would arrive in the dead of night and have to build our own shelters; those who couldn’t would freeze. I hoped not. I had some practical skills, to be sure, but I was a city girl. It was one thing to get a fire going in a stone hearth indoors, quite another to gather firewood and try to get it blazing as the wind whipped around me.

It would be fair to say that my mind definitely wandered in the face of uncertainty. But surely there would be breaks, times when I could come back to Wardwatch to visit my friends and my family. Runners were peculiar, not barbaric. When I returned I would be richer – for surely there would be nowhere to spend my apprenticeship wage – and I would meet Lori and treat us to food and average quality booze.

“I’m not sure if I will be able to find Andrew before I need to leave.” I held onto Lori’s sleeve, prolonging our conversation. “If I can’t, will you tell him goodbye for me? Tell him, I don’t know, that I hope he got an apprenticeship that will make him happy.”

I bit my lip, not sure how to go on. “Tell him, if he doesn’t, that I’m sure Sofia will help him out.” I’d have to work that into my own parting conversation with my mother, but I was sure that she would, in whatever way she could.

“I will,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Love you Anya, be safe.”

“You too, you’re gonna be amazing.”

From one difficult conversation straight into another, I turned around and marched right up to the house I had lived in for as long as I could remember. It was odd to think that I had slept in my bed for perhaps the last time in a long while and I hadn’t even known it.

The entryway opened up immediately into a modest living room, a couple of wooden chairs and a low wooden bench scattered with cushions arranged around the circumference of the room with the hearth acting as a focal point.

My mother sat in a chair, a steaming mug in her hands. Two visitors sat on the bench, all three in the midst of an animated conversation. I loitered in the doorway, feeling like a guest in my own home.

“Ma, uncle, cousin.” I greeted the trio. “All well?”

Sofia turned to face me and she beheld my empty hands with a speculative look.

“Anya, darling, come sit. Tell us all.”

I took the remaining seat. My cousin, Sam, was a handful of years older than me, over halfway through his own apprenticeship as an animal trainer. He focused on the hounds with a level of devotion and skill that endeared him to me, despite our age gap. It wasn’t just hunting dogs that he trained, though they were much in demand by the nobility, but also guard dogs and well-behaved pets. The latter he loved the most.

“I’m going to train be a Wing.” I decided to just to get it over with. “It was my only offer, so I accepted.”

Surprisingly, my uncle was the first to speak. He was my mother’s brother and whilst he came over often I knew very little of actual substance about him or his history. Except that which was displayed across his skin. His right hand had two thick-callused fingers from repeatedly knocking an arrow to the bowstring and his left leg was twisted at the knee. A break that had never healed right, sustained in the midst of battle.

“Good honest work, lass.” He nodded slowly. “I saw ‘em in action in the war and nobody could say that they weren’t as brave as the rest of us, ferrying commands from generals and the like.”

I didn’t actually want to be in a war, but I wasn’t about to trample all over a supportive response. There were many roles amongst the runners – working for specific bodies like the universities and the archives, as diplomats running messages to foreign representatives, and, some whispered, as spies and assassins. But most served simply as an incredible postal network that sprawled the length and breadth of the kingdom where the worst danger was a wild animal attack.

“They look good too, eh Anya!” Sam smiled at me, his tone encouraging and conspiratorial. “I’ve seen some of them runner lasses down by The Old Duke and they could stand against the fairest noble lady. You’ll be getting your pick of suitors, if you like.”

The idea amused me –I had seen what Sam meant and let’s just say that I wasn’t disagreeing – but I was too nervous to laugh. My mother had not yet spoken.

“I know it ain’t quite what you wanted for me ma, but like Uncle says, its honest work and it pays well. Safe too, not like the military. I –“

My mother cut me off by reaching across the space between us to take my free hand in hers. It felt like comfort, like being young again, like love.

“I have always hoped that you would stay close to me. What mother does not hope for this?” She clucked her tongue soothingly. “But the world calls, I understand this. My brother here was much the same, coming home one day to say that he was leaving. This surprises me, this choice that you have made, but it also does not surprise me at all.

“You will always have a place here, daughter, if this does not work out. Never be afraid to come home.”

This was the third person to imply that I was making a bad choice, no matter how cloaked in love and concern those words were. First Andrew, then Lori, and now my mother. It amplified the nerves that had been building up in me since yesterday and my final interview.

“This idea, being a runner, a Wing, it scares me a bit.” I admitted. “I don’t really know that much about it, what I will be doing, if I will enjoy it. But I want to try.”

We drank more tea and spoke a little more. Uncle had news from other relatives, cousins of my mother that she was keen to hear of. I mostly stared out the window, mentally packing up my belongings, weighing up what was worth taking. It would mostly just end up being clothes and perhaps a small pad of paper and a stick of charcoal, for if the mood took me to sketch. I could also write letters home.

Later Sam caught me in the kitchen as I scrubbed plates in cold water. He stood in companionable silence for a while before speaking.

“I felt the same way, you know, before my apprenticeship. I was always good with animals, so I knew it would be a good fit and we needed the money what with father’s injury. But I still worried that they had made a mistake, that I’d start and the master would realise that I was useless and send me packing. Or worse, that I’d be strung along at something I was no good at and no one would tell me and at the end of it I’d be stuck, wasted four years and nothing to show for it.”

“Thanks Sam, but it ain’t the same and we both know it. Animals love you and you’ve always had the knack. Running never crossed my mind before last week and the interview, I don’t know. It was just so odd.” I shook my head. “Maybe they’re just desperate, running low on bodies.”

“You’ll be a good fit for each other then.” Sam chuckled. “But seriously, Anya. You know what they say, the wanderers, the lonely and the hungry. That’s who they look for. That’s why none of us are all too surprised – me, my pa, and your mother. It was unexpected, but it also makes sense.”

He leaned back against the counter, looking at me, as if weighing up how much to say.

“You’ve always been hungry.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think about this conversation. Sam and I, we were friendly. We were family, living in the same city, so of course we were. But we weren’t close; this was quite possibly the most personal conversation we had ever had.

“You’ve always been a good daughter, dutiful, helping Sofia around the house and all that. But you’re itching, restless. You don’t fit here.” He jerked his head back towards where my mother and uncle were. “My pa was the same, or so ma says. They were seein’ each other when they were young but they parted for a time whilst he joined up with the army.”

He smiled fondly. “She always says she had to let him so he could see what he was missing. But me? I’m like ma, I’m happy here with my job and my hounds. Do you see? I would never even of thought of interviewing to be a runner; that’s why you should go, because for even just a little moment you thought it could be you.”

“This is my home. It will always be my home.”

“Yeah and we’ll always be family. Don’t matter how far you go.”

“Thanks Sam.”

I meant it. He’d given me a lot to think about because he was kind of right; my conversation with Lori had opened a crack in me that I hadn’t even realised I had, and then Sam had forced a knife in, splitting me open until I was looking inside of me. Looking at a truth. I was restless.

After I hugged Sam and gave my uncle a farewell wave, I got to packing. I crammed everything into one bag; socks and shirts bundled up tight to save on space. The methodical sorting through of everything I owned put my mind at ease; I was committed to this now and with every item I chose to leave behind I became more so. Like my old life was being packed away in a box to make space for a new one.

The hardest farewell was, of course, my mother. I had my full bag slung over my shoulder and was dressed in my plainest and most practical long shirt and trousers. A money purse clinked sadly at my waist and my mother’s clever hands had braided my hair back tightly. That same hand now held mine as we walked down the streets of Wardwatch, winding closer to the apprenticeship office as the hour of my leaving drew near.

“I will leave you a few streets over. You do not need your old mother hanging on and weeping as you strike out on your big adventure, yes?” She seemed to purposefully be staring ahead at the peaceful street as we walked, brushing aside my sounds of protest. It was not perhaps the most adult look to have one’s mother waving goodbye, but I did not mind. I’d already signed the paperwork; they were legally stuck with me for at least a two-month trial period.

My eyes were misted over as we stopped. I grasped my mother’s other hand so that we were facing each other and I took in every line of her face, every crease and smile line.

“Love you.” I choked out. “I’m sorry this is so sudden. I guess I always thought I would have more time, that I would feel more ready.”

“Oh my dear, it does not matter how much warning you have. It would still be just as hard to leave for the first time. Soon you will be coming and going with no more care than a busy bumblebee caught on a summer’s breeze.”

We hugged tightly and I turned to go, caught somewhere between excitement and nerves and sadness.

“Godspeed daughter. May the Lord watch over you and guide your feet.”

“You too.”

I walked away, shoes clacking purposefully across the stones. I only looked back once, before I turned the corner out of sight, to see my mother looking skyward and whispering a prayer to whoever might be listening.

Straightening my shirt collar and smoothing down the creases in my trousers, I made my stride stronger and more confident. I put goodbyes from my thoughts. First impressions could be everything and it was only a few minutes until sixth bell. As the apprenticeship building loomed ahead three figures came into focus. Only one was familiar to me and I stopped in front of her, raising an uncertain hand as if to offer a salute, then changing my mind at the last moment.

“Anya Vorian ma’am, presenting myself for the apprenticeship.”

It was the woman who had interviewed me and who had, presumably, made me the offer.

“Mistress Farrow.” She did not extend her hand, but her tone was not cold either. She was merely formal. “These are your fellow apprentices, Mirabella and Jorram.”

The young woman, my age and taller, must have been Mirabella. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she had a polished appearance that was slightly out of place. Her hair had no flyway wisps and the hand she extended towards me was devoid of calluses. No doubt she was a merchant’s daughter or some such. The man Jorram merely nodded at me. He was about the same size as Mirabella, perhaps a little under average height for a Wardwatch man but he had a serious look that did not invite trouble.

“Did you bring supplies?” I must have looked startled as Mistress Farrow continued. “Food?”

I had a couple of rolls of bread gone slightly stale and a hunk of cheese of middling quality. Enough for one decent meal. My lack of response was presumably taken as an affirmative as Mistress Farrow started striding away.

We three apprentices looked at each other blankly. Clearly they knew about as much as I did. I hefted my bag.

“I suppose we had better start walking.”