The moon shone down. The color of it reminded Pyre of Fand's eyes. He had seen her hiding in the shadow of the barn that morning, and he had also seen her pretending not to see him as she held her bow and arrow. In his arms he clutched Zog's dark blue Appointment shirt. Fand had made it. He had borrowed it that morning so his mother could make a duplicate for him. He brushed the shirt against his cheek and thought of Fand's fingers sewing the neat even stitches.

The Geworden house was dark. Zog promised he would stay up until Pyre brought the shirt back. So much for Zog's promises or his help. Pyre sighed. He had hoped that morning that Zog would help him undo the mess he had gotten himself into, but all Zog said was, "If Jerue said it, it is true. Accept your honored destiny." Pyre couldn't see any honor in it, only loneliness and separation from Fand. He walked up the stone steps and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked a little harder. He heard footsteps then the door flew open. Fand stood trembling in her nightgown. Tears splashed down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

He asked, "What's wrong?"

Her voice shook when she said, "I dreamed the Sonpur had kidnapped me. Their great hairy hands held me down and…"

Pyre dropped Zog's shirt and took Fand in his arms. A tremor ran through her. He felt her arms wrap around his neck. Their bodies met in perfect union. This was heaven. He whispered into her ear, "It was only a dream."

She stuttered, "Th-this time."

Alarmed he pulled her closer and asked, "What do you mean this time?" She didn't answer him. He felt her pull away from him. He wasn't ready to let her go, but he did. Never again would he force his attentions on her.

She took a step away from him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She asked, "Why are you here?"

He picked up the dropped shirt and said, "I've come to return this."

She took the shirt and then kissed his cheek. She whispered, "I will miss you, when you are gone."

Wild desire for her leapt up inside of him. He wanted to take her, to have her, to know her. She was so close. He wanted her in his arms again. He moved toward her and then he heard Zog's voice behind him. "Hello Pyre. Sorry I'm late." Pyre turned. Jerue was with Zog.

Zog mounted the steps. He said, "Good night Sir."

To Zog, Jerue said, "Good night, son. I will see you in the morning." To Pyre he said, "Come, I will walk you home."

This was not what Pyre wanted. "Thank you, Sir." He turned to Fand to bid her goodnight, but she was no longer at the door. Jerue motioned for him to follow. Pyre obeyed, there was nothing else he could do. Blast Zog's timing! As he walked with Jerue, clouds began to pass over the moon. Dark and light played across the road. Jerue picked up a dead branch and with a wave of his hand ignited it. Pyre gasped.

Jerue laughed. "You will do as much and more, once you reach the Council City."

The thought of creating fire did not entice Pyre when his entire being ached for Fand. He tried to sound enthusiastic as he said, "Yes Sir."

Jerue patted his shoulder with his free hand. "You will forget her in time, son. I promise. The joy of the Keeper far exceeds earthly pleasure."

Really?

*

The morning sun shot fingers of white light along the horizon. Pyre stood behind Zog at the base of the Meeting Hill. Ten other applicants stood behind him. Of the twelve, only seven would be chosen to enter the holy service of the Council. Pyre had not slept well. It had been a long and confusing night. If only this were a bad dream, but it was his real nightmare. His heavy eyes could not focus and his legs were unstable beneath him. How would he ever get up that hill?

Pig-eyed Gregor Zwart blew a single note on his recorder. The congregation rose to their feet. The men stood on the north side of the hill, the women on the south side. Another note was blown and Zog moved forward. Pyre, as he had done his entire life, followed behind him. On the women’s side, he saw Fand’s back. An old shawl was draped over her shoulders. It was one his mother had given her. She turned to look back. Her eyes were on Zog and they were full of sadness. She didn’t even notice Pyre and it hurt. Did she really care so little for him? When he passed by her she didn’t even glance at him. Gregor blew another note and Pyre and the rest of the applicants stopped on the front row and turned into their reserved seats and sat down. The stone bench was cold. A shiver ran through Pyre’s body. He glanced at Zog, never had he seen a face so happy and full of anticipation.

The men in the congregation rose and began to sing the hymn of Acceptance in the Ancient Tongue. Pyre could barely follow the words. He had never been any good at translation. He had never been any good at any of his lessons. He wondered again, Why am I here?

When the hymn concluded Jerue stepped behind the black stone lectern at the center of the Hill. The morning sun formed a halo behind his head. He looked otherworldly. Behind him the Ruhe Mountains were covered in mist. Jerue placed a black rectangular box beside the bound Sacred Text on the lectern. He raised his arms and said, "Let us begin the Induction of the Appointees. As you all know there are two levels of Apprenticeship." Jerue opened the box and held up a bronze pendant of a lion. "Those who receive the symbol of the Lion will remain in Tashe until the formal Acceptance Ceremony." Pyre felt sudden hope surge through him. Surely he would receive this symbol. If he did, he could still help his father with the harvest and by the Keeper's grace figure out how to get out of his hasty commitment to the Council. For the first time since he had signed his life away, he felt his body relax.

Jerue held up a silver dove. It was exactly like Fand's dove pendant, only it was twice the size. He said, "Those who receive this Symbol will leave for the Council City tomorrow."

With his poor skills Pyre knew he would not be among that group. No way.

With perfect cadence, Jerue began reciting the Ritual of Acceptance. Pyre didn't even try to follow. Instead he let his mind wander to the possibilities of his future. All of which revolved around marriage to Fand. This thing would work out. It had to. When Jerue finished, he closed the book. He motioned to chubby Elder Zwar, their region's spiritual adviser and teacher. Elder Zwar handed Jerue a rolled up black velvet cloth. Jerue unrolled the cloth for all to see. It held four bronze lions pins and and three silver doves. Zog would receive a dove, of that much Pyre was certain.

Jerue unfastened the lion pins and said, "Those who receive this symbol will be the keepers of our current peace. These young men will be our elders and teachers one day." This was another point Pyre had forgotten. He might be able to return to Tashe someday. He chided himself, What am I thinking? I am not leaving Tashe at all.

Jerue looked at the Applicants and said, "Please rise."

Zog was the first to stand. His shoulders were thrown back and his face emanated an ethereal light. His hands were clasp in front of him.

Jerue said, "The Lions are Hanz Gletz, Stuben Rach, Gerard Geld and Seb Blant."

Pyre had not heard his name. What! There was no way he would be given the symbol of Dove, not with his academic history. A wild hope ignited inside of him. Perhaps, he had not been called after all! Silently he pleaded, Please, Keeper, please...