I’ve seen Soletus face a lot of the things he feared. Other’s judgments inspire a certain kind of fear that I didn’t think he possessed. That’s a whole discussion on its own and one for him to tell. And then there are drass beasts. That’s something he’s discussed to many people. How his fear of them fueled his want to destroy them. He went through something I’ve been blessed not going through. That scar on his forearm isn’t just burned into his flesh, but his soul. A reminder and a purpose.

Soletus was better in just a couple of days and went back to his duty. A few days passed after being whipped, they finally run into each other. Doran was sitting in the common area in a chair while Soletus walked over to the board. The tod avoided even looking at Soletus’s general direction on or off the training field. That day was no exception. Soletus looked to see what free days were coming up so he could plan a day with Mien and felt tension form between his shoulder blades. Doran was staring at him. Soletus met his stare with one of his own. Something should have been said. An apology on Doran part seeing as he never gave one. However, the young tod just squirmed out of his chair. He walked right by him to the stairs to go to his room.

Soletus watched him and fought himself to follow and speak to him. Lyndon then stepped in, stopping him.

“There you are,” he said, then saw the perturbed look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Doran,” whispered Soletus.

Lyndon’s expression darkened. “What’s he doing now?”

“Nothing,” he told his cousin. “I just… never mind. What do you want?”

“The masters need you out in the training fields in the back,” he said.

“For?”

“A test they said.”

Soletus swallowed the melon sized lump that formed in his throat. He had an idea what that test was.

The two cousins made their way to the training fields out back. Soletus saw Kiao standing to the side give him some kind of expression he didn’t understand and then he looked in front of him. He saw his father standing behind a few of the other masters. Master Tyr was one of them holding something by a chain and under a black cloth growling. Lyndon collided into Soletus. He froze in his tracks. Lyndon moved around him and back away from the hidden drass beast beside where Kiao stood.

“It’s a young skulker,” said his father as he stepped forward and revealed the monster. “Not the same kind you encountered.”

It certainly wasn’t. The body of the monster was more like a giant rat than a boar. The armored head and body limiting any killing blow to the eyes or stomach. What the two had in common was the shared white gaze of fury. It snarled, sending spittle through the muzzle it was wearing. Soletus took an involuntary step back. He could feel shadows of the burning in his arm and leg. Images and sensation he rather forgotten rushed to the forefront of his mind. He wanted to flee but found himself unable to move. He wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. A tremor staring in his center as it tried to work its way out.

“Those are some very large pupils,” observed one of the closest of the masters. “I think we’ve got our answer.”

Soletus focused on the voice of the one who spoke. He broke from the fear that was squeezing him and tore his eyes off the drass beast. He had to swallow before he spoke because he could feel his throat becoming tight and dry.

“And what answer is that,” he croaked.

He tried not to drop his gaze as he waited for an answer. He didn’t need what was happening to him. Everything he wanted, everything he was currently fighting for on top of years of training, was about to be tossed off a cliff. He gritted his teeth, fought the urge to run. To cry. He ignored the stinging in his leg and arm.

The master’s eyes narrowed. “Warder, a drass beast bit you. Anyone who does has to have this test to see how they react to one afterward.”

The drass beast let out snarl through the muzzle it was wearing. Soletus found himself fixed on it again.

He swallowed again, feeling his stomach twisting. “Okay, I’m afraid of what’s in front of me, but this is like any old fear, right? It can be overcome.”

The master didn’t answer him and murmured to his fellow masters. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

Soletus willed his legs to move again and took a tentative step forward, back to his original position. He then took another step forward.

“It’s a drass beast, a profane creature, not of Dias. It’s evil. They spread poison and sorrow. Because of that, they need to be destroyed.”

His father became alarmed. “Sol, what are you doing?

Soletus snapped his eyes back up and saw that all were watching him with interest.

“Mind over body,” quoted Soletus, taking another step over to the skulker. “Have say over your emotion. Learn when to listen to them or not fall into them. That is the way of monk.” He soon found himself within hand reach of the skulker. He stretched his quivering hand out. “Have faith in Dias, hear his voice and he’ll show you his love and offer his protection.” He laid a hand on top of the skulker’s head. It tried to bite at him through the muzzle, to no avail. “Do these things and evil won’t harm you.”

All five of the master’s jaws dropped in amazement. Soletus withdrew and took a sidestep back, followed by one more, and folded his arms behind his back. His entire body was shuttering. Sweated beaded down his neck. His arm especially felt like it was on fire down to the bone. He felt the jaws of that drass beast as if it were real. The sensation choked him for a moment and then cleared his throat.

“Is there anything else,” he asked.

They were speechless and staring at him. He didn’t know why until he realized that he was now clutching his left arm. He looked down and saw it covered in blood. In a single blink, he was on the ground again with the drass beast over him, trying to kill him. It then let go of his arm and went for his throat. In the corner of the horrific vision in front of him, he saw a shimmering white light. He heard a chanter’s voice rise out from the light.

“Si lei’so, it’s all in your mind.”

Warmth bathed him and the pain receding to a low throb. His vision came back into the waking world. He was on the ground. Kiao was at his side, leaning over him. His eyes dimmed down but remained violet in hue.

“Soletus,” he said.

The young monk took a in a few deep breaths before touching his friend’s forearm and worked on sitting up. “Let me go,” he said, sitting up and looked down at his left arm. There was no blood seeping through his sleeve. He flexed his left hand and stretched his leg out. The sensation was vanished. He looked up to see the masters conversing to themselves.

Lyndon was on his knees behind him and placed a hand in the middle of his back to keep him steady. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. He noticed the drass beast was gone.

“Masters,” called Kiao.

Tyr wasn’t there, but the others were surprised yet again. His father looked uncertain.

“Is he steady enough,” asked one of them. It was the one who spoke to him. Soletus worked on trying to remember his name. It was Master Ealdred. He never trained with him.

“I think I’m okay,” said Soletus, but the sensation of being ill still clung to him.

The man walked over and squatted down in front of him.

“You held that off for a long time. That’s impressive. Normally, most just run away or fall to their knees in pain. Then getting out of that state takes a while.” The master placed his hands on the side of his head. “Look at me.”

Soletus did.

The man then took hold of his upper arms. “He’s not even shaking anymore, Oeric.”

“Ealdred, we can’t have any of this in a warden,” his father argued.

“He was resisting it the entire time,” Ealdred spoke over his shoulders. “They are either afraid or they aren’t. They don’t talk. They don’t walk forward and pat drass beasts on the head. And then they are prone for hours and he was out of it in a few minutes!”

“He’s willed, point taken, but he can’t be a warden,” said Oeric.

“Or we can try the experiment. I’m tired of seeing promising lads taken out by fear,” he then turned to Soletus. “I mean, if you are willing to do it.”

“Ealdred,” barked Oeric.

Soletus perked up and looked at them both. “Training to fight this?”

“I’m trying to give your boy a chance. We need him,” he said from over his shoulder.

His father shook his head. “There is no point in getting his hopes up.”

“You give up too easily, Oeric,” said Master Ealdred to him and then to Soletus. “Tell me, have you been having nightmares?”

“Soletus, you need to go to the infirmary,” ordered his father.

Soletus ignored him and answered the question. “Yes, but just two or three.”

Ealdred became intrigued. “When were you bitten?”

“About three months ago.”

“With only three nightmares in that period and you’re intolerant of them,” the master looking at him incredulously. “I’ve never heard that before.”

“He could be easily lying about that,” argued Oeric.

Soletus looked around Ealdred to meet his father’s disapproving look with one of his own. “It’s the truth!”

His father frowned. “Why deny what is so?”

“Why are you denying me this opportunity too,” snapped Soletus. “I’m the one who is training to be warden, not you!”

Oeric dropped his voice. “I know what you’re trying to do, but you can’t! Not with the way you are!”

Soletus pushed himself up to his feet and started crossing the distance between them. “You’ve no right to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do in the order!”

His father’s face became as red. “I’m the one who got you to this point and yet you stand here, acting ungrateful.”

“No, I’m the one who’s gotten this far! I’m the one who woke up and trained every day. You aren’t the wind under my wings!”

His father stepped towards him so that they stood chest to chest. Soletus, for a brief instance, thought it would be wise to back down at seeing the fury that lit his father’s pale eyes. Instead, he squared his shoulders, waiting to take whatever he unleashed on himself. However, his father recoiled.

“I’m not holding you back,” he said evenly. “I want you p-p-prepared and safe. This isn’t safe. This is some asinine idea that could ruin you from what little else you can do.”

Soletus tightened his eyes and took a step back. “I’m going to see what the Arch Monk says.”

Oeric tried to reach for him, but Soletus slapped his hand away. His father started to speak, but Master Tyr had come back and shouted, getting his father’s attention. Soletus quickened his steps and marched off, going through the archway he come from. His stride was fast at first, then he slowed. The rush he felt waned, and he started feeling shaken from what happened. He kept onward, though. The Arch Monk’s office was in the outer halls of the monastery towards the front. It was a bit of a distance from where he started.

No one really had an instant ear to the Arch Monk. Normally, one would have to see a master first and they would set the appointment. But Soletus was family. He was always let into the Arch Monk in his private chamber without an appointment. It was late, so no one was speaking to him when he arrived. Brother Farley, the priest who helped keep up with the Arch Monk’s appointment, sat at a small desk in a recess right outside his grandfather’s door. He was reading and absently held out his hand for his appointment slip.

“I don’t have one, Brother Farley.”

The man looked up and then closed his book, using his thumb as a marker.

“Oh, hello Soletus, your grandfather isn’t with anyone,” he said. “Might as well walk in.

“Thank you,” replied Soletus and went into his Arch Monks’ chamber. The place doubled as the old monk’s living quarters. His large office was minimalistic in decorations. There were a few gifts proudly displaying from the people and for nobles. Then there were the little things his grandmother had made. She liked to make little figurines out of tao stone. They were all lined up over a mantle, a cute little family of elves. It was his late uncle, his wife with baby Alacai, his Aunt Cyrius, and another baby that was supposed to be his father.

His grandfather shouted from his bedroom. “I’ll be out shortly.”

“Take your time,” Soletus yelled back, walking over to where the family crest was hanging as a tapestry. It was two sheldmartins flying in a circle with ivy vines between their beaks. While he stared at the tapestry, his grandfather stood in the doorway of his bedroom.

“I’m surprised to see you. Has your father not tested you?”

Soletus turned his body around. “He did,” answered Soletus.

His grandfather’s eyes widened. “Well, why aren’t you in the infirmary, lad,” he said, rushing towards him.

“I’m fine. I just feel a little shaken is all, Grandpa.”

His grandfather guided him to the chair in front of his desk. “I’ve seen dying men with better parlor than you have right now. I’m not sure how you are standing.”

“Papa and I had a disagreement,” he told him as soon as the old elf took a seat.

“I’m not surprised,” he said, giving him his full attention.

Soletus looked down at his hands. “I’m intolerant of not only the venom, but drass beast themselves.”

The Arch Monk winced. “I was praying you weren’t, but you had such a violent reaction to it.”

“That’s the thing I fought the fear. I even touched it before I blacked out and then I woke up sooner than everyone expected.”

“Then you walked here alone,” asked the Arch Monk with disbelief.

Soletus nodded. “I feel like I ate something bad and dizzy. Master Ealdred thinks that with conditioning that maybe I can fight it enough to be alright with it.”

The Arch Monk's brow shot up, intrigued. “I’ve never heard such a thing. Master Ealdred wants to see if he can work on this? I have to say very few that are intolerant can even look at one from a distance, let alone try to overcome it. Though your father rather you not attempt it, I assume.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s right, within reason. You realize that all your regular training will come to a halt because of this. This is how sick you are going feel to be every time you approach a drass beast unless the affect lessens.”

Soletus felt his grandfather was trying to discourage, and he told him, “I didn’t join because I wanted to be a peaceguard. I want to be a field warden, just like you and papa.”

“I understand, but if this is all for nothing, then you’ll have to stick with what you’ve been given,” said his grandfather grimly.

“But I have to try,” asserted Soletus.

A proud grin spread across the Arch Monk’s lips. “We monks do strive to overcome. I’m willing enough to see what happens. First, I’ll need a few details from Ealdred. However, your father won’t be happy.”

“I don’t really care what he thinks,” said Soletus.

His grandfather inhaled sharply at the bitter note in his voice. “Don’t start sinking to the mindset, lad. There is no reason to resent him. He is trying to do what’s best for you. In reality, he’s comforting himself.”

Soletus crossed his arms. “Well, he needs to stop.”

His grandfather’s chamber door swung open. “Papa, we need to talk,” said Oeric.

Soletus slumped down in his chair. Not only because of his father’s presence, but for the fact the room tilted.

“I see Soletus made it,” said Oeric, settling behind him. He felt his father examining the top of his head.

The Arch Monk leaned forward, ready for another argument his son would make. “He did. I was just telling him how I would like to give this crazy idea a chance.”

“What,” his father breathed out in shock.

“This is an opportunity that I can’t pass. I want to know if it can be done. I’ve seen too many wardens, good ones at that, fall to this.”

“This could ruin him,” said Oeric, gripping Soletus’s chair.

“Your son is fine. I mean, he looks fine,” his grandfather paused, scanning him and then amended his statement. “Well, he’s been turning more and more green as we’ve been talking.”

Soletus’s stomach soured. He covered his mouth and tried the swallow the bile that rose in his throat.

His grandfather leapt from his chair and gathered the paper off the front of his desk. “Not my desk,” he cried.

Soletus vomited to the side of his chair.

“This is why you should’ve gone to the infirmary,” scolded his father.

The tod’s stomach heaved again, and he spewed out more of the contents of his stomach. When he was done, he felt better.

“The infirmary now,” ordered his father.

“No,” said Soletus. He didn’t have the strength to walk there. He felt sapped again.

“Then at least lie down in my bed,” offered the Arch Monk.

That was a lot more reasonable. Soletus stood on his shaky legs. “Sorry about that,” he said weakly.

His grandfather shooed him to the bedroom. He laid on the bed he often did as a child when he was given to his grandfather to watch. The door to the bed chamber was closed. He heard Farley being called in. After that, everyone spoke in hushed tones. He didn’t bother trying to stretch his hearing into listening. He was tired. If that was all he had to worry about, then he was sure he was able to do the experiment Ealdred wanted. It was his only chance at that point.