Stepping up to Destiny - Part VII

t was later that afternoon when Misha and Craig walked slowly down the lane past the numerous stalls and tents of the fair. Occasionally the prairie dog morph or the fox would stop and chat with a friend, or shop at one of the stalls. Their wanderings seemed to be random, just two friends enjoying the fair. That was a carefully maintained illusion. They didn't want anyone to know where they were headed. Finally they arrived at they're destination.

Oren's ale was a hit and the otter's booth was crowded with customers. The fox mumbled something to himself. "Now what do we do?" Craig asked as he watched the otter serve people. Misha motioned to the other side of the aisle and the two wandered over to a booth selling clothing.

After a long time, the stream of customers finally petered out and they found their chance. Misha and Craig walked over to the counter. The otter bounced up with a small blue dragon on his shoulder and asked, "What can I get you?"

"Two of your finest," Misha answered.

In a moment Oren produced two full tankards and passed them over the counter. Misha took a long drink from one. It had a deep, rich, earthy taste that he found delicious. From his pouch, Misha produced a coin. It wasn't a gold coin, but a Garrett, worth five times as much.

"Gornul, would you do me a favor?" he asked. "Two rows over is a booth with a bright red canvas over it. Would you go over and buy me some candy? You can buy Oren and yourself all you want too."

The dragon looked confused for a moment, but Oren scratched him on the head. "It's all right, be sure to bring back some sugared apples," he said. The dragon took the offered Garrett and flew off.

"Thanks Oren," Misha said. "How about you and me talk back by the tanks? Craig will watch the counter."

"I'll be a good counter boy," Craig expounded loudly.

Oren smiled and motioned towards the back of the booth. He didn't say anything until they were out of earshot of the counter. "Is this about the Long Scouts?" he asked.

"Yes," Misha answered.

"Well?" Oren asked. "Am I in?"

"After a lot of consideration we've decided to let you join the Long Scouts," the fox answered. "You have to realize that this won't be an easy job and you'll have to go through a lot of training."

"I realize that," Oren replied, "but you won't be sorry that you let me join. When will my training start?"

"Two days after the fair ends," came the reply.

"Sounds fair."

"It won't be easy," Misha warned. "You're looking at three or four months of long, hard work before you're a Long Scout."

"Nothing of value comes easily or cheaply," Oren commented.

Misha nodded. "True." He extended his hand to the otter who grasped it. "Welcome to the Long Scouts, Oren."

The gardens were quiet, and that is why Garigan enjoyed to sit at them in the evenings, away from the rest of the merry-makers, where he could find some peace like he used to know back at Avery's Glen. Though he had spent his first few days here at Metamor with his jaw on the ground, the novelty was beginning to wear thin. Charles was a good rat, and was quite kind to him in his own way, but the fortress lacked that warmth he felt in the trees or with his friends back home.

So when he looked up to see Lord and Lady Avery strolling along the terrazzo, he felt his heart lift. "Lord Avery," He called out breathlessly, glad to see a familiar face again.

"Ah, Garigan, good to see you," Brian cajoled pleasantly as he and his wife came to stand next to him at the fountain's edge.

Angela appeared to sense that something was bothering the ferret and so murmured quietly, "We miss you back home. Angus talks about you all the time you know. Even Shelley seems disconsolate every now and then. What about you?"

Garigan shook his head, throwing back his arms at the magnificence around him. "This place is amazing, I see something I'd never seen before every day. Yet it isn't home, and I don't want it to be home. I miss the trees, I miss my friends."

Lord Avery's eyes betrayed his deep concern and love for the fellow of the Glen. "Aren't you making new friends here? Charles and you seem to be very close now."

The ferret nodded once at that, and then shook his head agin, a confused expression crossing his grey muzzle. "I know, and I appreciate it. There are some nice people here. I try to stay near Charles and Misha, they are the only ones I really know here. Everyone else seems too preoccupied to care. Just the other day somebody stole my money, and then there was the kangaroo who delighted in mocking Charles and saying really creepy things to me."

The two squirrels glanced at each other furtively, but mostly watched Garigan. "Didn't Matthias say that you could leave soon? He told me that he needed you for a little bit, to help you with some problem you had, but he wouldn't say what."

Garigan chuckled lightly at that, though humorlessly. "He would never tell you, even were you to torture him a thousand years.

Lady Avery gently sat down next to him, and wrapped her arm about his shoulders. "It's alright, everyone does miss you, but that will only make your homecoming all the more special to us. And for you. Remember, your friend said that you only had to stay for a short while. I've almost never left the Glen in my whole life, and now it is too late. I wish I could have seen more of the world. You still have that chance here."

Brian lightly chortled and patted Garigan upon the shoulder. "And if nothing else, you can be the Ambassador from Glen Avery at Metamor. There seems to be a growing profusion of them here at the Keep anyway!"

That actually made the ferret laugh pleasantly, and he just shook his head in mirth. "Thank you both, I will do my best to stick up for the Glen. Now that you put it like that, it isn't so bad I guess."

"Nothing ever is," Brian agreed a smile etched across his small muzzle. "Charles and Misha have invited us to dinner at the Mule, would you care to join us?"

Garigan shook his head again, "No thank you, I'd like to just be here and watch the stars come out."

Angela Avery patted him on the cheek, stood from the bench, and returned to her husband's side. "Well, we shall leave you to the stars then. You will be there when we leave tomorrow, right?"

He nodded, "Of course!"

"Alright, we shall see you then at least," Lord Avery inclined his head respectfully before turning on his heels. "And remember, the Glen runs in your blood, we expect to see you back there soon! So whatever you are doing for Charles, do it quickly!"

Garigan stood from his seat to watch them go. "I will, that you can count on!" And then, quietly, more to himself than to anyone else, "I will master my anger, nothing will stop that."

That was the thing about the Deaf Mule; it never changed. Any time of year, a person could come there and see pretty much the same scenes; people laughing, drinking eating, playing games or just relaxing. It was just that during any kind of celebration, that atmosphere was amplified at least ten times over. People had crowded it to near capacity, and the servers were being run ragged trying to keep up with the demands.

Misha gawked in surprise when he saw the couple that had just entered. The one was definitely Rickkter. What surprised Misha was his companion. The female skunk on his arm was Kayla. He tapped Caroline on the shoulder and pointed to the couple. Together they made their way up to them.

"Hello Rick!" He said as they came up behind the raccoon.

The raccoon and the skunk turned and greeted the smiling pair. "Hello, my friends," said Rick. "I was hoping to see the two of you here."

"Yes, well so were we," said Misha as the foursome moved to the side of the flow of traffic. "I wanted to offer my congratulations on your narrow loss in the duels. An impressive victory, none the less. And I have to say, you're looking surprisingly good, considering what I saw towards the end there."

"Well, it's nothing a little soap, water, and a lot of magic couldn't fix." They all laughed at that, despite it being the obvious truth. It must have taken Rickkter close to half an hour to get all the blood out of his fur. The only evidence of what had happened was the damp look to several sections of his coat.

The fox turned his eyes to where Kayla shyly stood, trying not to look too uncomfortable. "I notice you found someone of your own to share the evening with. It's good to see you, Kayla."

Rick turned and gave the skunk a small smile. "I suppose you could say that. And while we're on the topic of competition this festival, how did you do in the joust?"

"About the same as you," said Misha with a shake of his head. "Sir Andre lost to Sir Saulius."

"A shame." The rest murmured agreement. Rick smiled. "Almost as big a shame as my missing your trying to ride a horse."

They all laughed. "Well, I don't think you'll be getting another opportunity for that any time soon," said Misha, as he rubbed his backside to accentuate the point.

"And how about you, Caroline?" asked Kayla. "Were you in anything?"

"Yes archery." The otter grimaced. "You'll be disappointed to know, Rick, that it wasn't a repeat of the Spring festival. Donna, took it from me. I knew she had been practicing, but she really surprised me this time."

Rick clapped his paws and gave them a vigorous rub. "Well, since it looks like we're all losers, how about we get something to eat and console each other over our different losses?"

The other three readily agreed. Misha shot Carol a quick glance. "Kayla, why don't we leave the boys and go ahead and scout out a table on our own," Caroline offered. Kayla quickly agreed and the two mustelids disappeared into the crowds. Misha grabbed hold of Rick's arm and took him to an out of the way section of the bar.

"So what made you bring her along?" he asked along the way.

Rick shrugged. "I don't know. Probably the same thing that happened between a healer and I almost thirteen years ago."

"Which was?"

The raccoon twitched his head to the side in an off-handed manner. "No idea. I don't even pretend to explain mutual attraction between people. Magic, alchemy, philosophy, advanced theory relating to the very nature of the universe itself; all of those I will cheerfully delve into. But such things as love?" He shook his head. "That is something that I'll leave to the philosophers, and the poets, and the dreamers; those who can best define it. For the rest of us, it's just something that must be experienced."

Misha's tail twitched merrily. It was good to see his friend finally back to his old self. "So what would this be, then?"

"Let's cut to the chase, what did you want to ask me?"

"What makes you think I wanted something?" asked Misha, feigning innocence.

"Because you wouldn't have dragged me over here just to ask about my love life."

Misha chucked and shook his head. "Okay, you got me." He became very somber. "What do you know about the Long Scouts, Rick?"

The mage shrugged. "Not a lot. An elite band of warriors." He smirked at his friend. "Also that you're their head and that you've been on a recruiting drive of sorts lately."

The fox chuckled. "You don't miss much of what goes on around here, do you?"

"I try not to."

"Well, you're right on all counts. In fact, Donna, the gender-morph who beat Caroline, is one of our better field operatives. The Long's are actually an elite band of scouts here at the Keep. Now, we've given this a lot of thought. Would you like to join?" Misha asked. "With your magic and combat skills you'd be a natural."

"I'll think about it," said Rick. He paused and gazed out at the bar. He looked for about a minute, what he sought Misha couldn't guess. "I've decided, Misha. The answer is no. Thanks for the offer."

"Our job is more than just killing and fighting," Misha countered. "You'd be doing a very dangerous and, and very, important jobs."

"I've had commands thrust under my nose," said Rick, pointing with his finger. "And I'm still here, alone. I really don't relish the idea of being an actual soldier again. Five years of travel is more then enough."

"You're sure?" Misha asked, pressing the matter.

"Very sure." The cold look that flashed in Rick's eyes ended that line of questions. He softened it by adding, "Remind me to tell you about them some other time, okay?"

Misha's gray eyes glinted with mirth. "Don't think I'll forget it either."

"I wouldn't expect it." He looked over the mulling crowds once more. "You would think that they can find a table for four in this mess?"

The fox flicked his tail in his own expression of a wince. "Well, it won't be just us there. I asked Carol to look for a table for eight. Lord Brian and his wife will also be joining us."

"That's only six. Who are the other two?"

"Charles Matthias, and Kimberly."

Rickkter only tuned away and shook his head. "Well, at least you told me before we were actually at the table together." He looked back at his friend. "It seems I won't be joining you after all."

"Why?" Misha asked. "Don't tell me you're going to let that stupid feud ruin a good evening?"

"Don't even pretend that you understand what is between the rat and I," growled Rick. "You know nothing."

"You're right Rick, I don't understand. And I never want to. This feud of yours is a senseless and idiotic waste of both time and energy."

"All the more reason for me to say no."

The fox just stared at his friend for a moment and then shook his head. "Do whatever you want."

Rickkter remained silent, looking away and growling softly to himself. By that time the two ladies had returned, chatting merrily between themselves. "Well, come on you two," said Carol. "We've already got a table, and the others are waiting for us."

Rickkter removed himself from Misha, standing next to the skunk and across from the others. "Um, sorry Carol but I don't think I'll be joining you tonight. It was good seeing you and Misha though, and I hope to do so again before long."

Misha sighed and put his arm around the slender otter next to him. "I hope so as well, Rick. I'm sorry to hear your decision. On both counts." They said goodbye once more before the two disappeared into the swirling crowd.

The drink Lord Avery had purchased for him was warm between his paws, and quite delicious down his throat. Despite worded protests, their feminine counterparts really did not seem to mind so much that the three men were enjoying themselves as they sat together around the circular table near where Copernicus was busy defeating a few challengers at pool. The center of the Deaf Mule had been cleared out so that a few performers might entertain the evening crowds. Currently a bright grey-furred coyote was capering about in a jester's costume, pulling coins out of children's ears and other novelties.

The high chandelier was brightly lit, a soft velvety perfume emanating from the incandescent wicks. Bright lanterns adorned each of the finely wrought walls, marked by hanging pictures and portraits and most especially the royal seal of arms that was always displayed this time of the year. The horsehead calligraphy seemed especially prophetic, a fact that was not lost on the Keepers.

"Could it be possible," Lord Avery mused, as Charles and Misha continued to watch Devon continue his bizarre antics, laughing as he began to strum a small lute that was very off key. The liege of Avery's Glen coughed and drew their attention finally. "Could it be possible that we are more jolly now that we are cursed than even before? What is there that the House of Hassan possessed that we do not still own? Can you not see the pride in each Keeper's face?"

Charles shrugged. "I was not here before the curse, I do not know. But when I look about me, I still see a lot of pain and loss. I think at these Festivals we see beneath the fur to the real people still there."

Misha nodded, taking a sip from his mug. "Yes, I think so as well. No matter what happens, we are still people, which is what Nasoj tried to destroy. In that, we defeat him every day."

The Lord of the Glen grinned, his long bushy tail twitching, nearly slapping the serving tray out of a passing stoat's paws. "That is a good way to think of it. Do you think that the curse will ever be lifted?"

The fox and rat glanced at each other, and sighed. Misha finally answered for them both. "I do not think so, not in our lifetimes at any rate. If it is ever lifted at all. Metamor is a place of strange and ancient magic; nobody knows when it was first made."

"According to Father Hough, Madog has some insights into that," Charles murmured softly, dipping his muzzle back into the fine wine. It was a brand he'd never tried before, and he could detect just the faintest hint of peaches as it flowed past his long tongue.

"Is that not your metal fox that you told me about?" Lord Avery asked, his grey fur bristling in excitement. "I had hoped to meet him."

Misha looked beneath the table, and then scanned the area nearby, but did not find the familiar chrome and gold plating that always seemed to be underfoot in the oddest of places. "He does not seem to be about right now; I wonder where he could have snuck off to?"

A sudden eruption of laughter from the ladies sitting at the other end of the table made them all turn back to face the court jester who had finally managed to get the lute in tune, and was strumming out short lyrics.

The men all laughed at that one, while most of the women remained pensively silent through such a bawdy selection. Lady Avery, Caroline, and Kimberly were quick to turn in their seats to give their men a meaningful glance. Misha was the first to speak, the hint of mirth still fresh upon his lips, "It was a funny song! If you think that was bad, you should hear the rest of that ballad. I think our good Devon here only knows the first verse to each of them."

Their gazes shifted to the two rodents. Charles just laughed. "I think there's a version of The Lass from Pallowtry in almost all the world. I remember when I was young my father use to sing that to my mother when they thought I'd gone to sleep." With a sudden icy snap, Matthias shut his mouth and tried his best to smile.

However, nobody seemed to notice his very personal admission. "It was just a song!" Lord Avery grinned, taking another drink. "You laughed at all those ones with men going off to battle in their nightclothes!"

Lady Avery laughed then, and put one paw on her husband's arm. "It's all right, dear. We don't really mind."

"We're just keeping you boys honest!" Caroline crowed, her lutrine face bearing an expression of total confidence. The men all gave off dry chuckles, with the rat very happy the moment had passed. Devon finally bowed, and did a cartwheel towards one of the booths along the wall, tossed the lute in the air, flipped backwards, and then landed in the seat perfectly catching the fragile instrument in his paws at the same time, quickly strumming one last note. Their was a round of applause before the next entertainer came forward to amuse them all.

As the women began to watch the next act, Scratch juggling his knives and doing other tricks with them, Brightleaf turned to the grey squirrel once more and asked, "So, when are you all leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. It is a good thing the Duke has lent me rooms in the Palace, for the Inn has nothing left!" He watched the juggler for a moment, amazed at the fact the tiger could deftly handle five, no wait, six knives with such ease. "Christopher and Darien would have loved to see this! I'm surprised they wanted to go run off with that priest friend of yours."

"Father Hough will take good care of them," Charles said as he took another drink. "He might even be able to keep up with them!"

"Is that possible?" Misha asked teasingly, his face breaking into a quick grin. Matthias suddenly had a flashback of his attempts to follow the two young squirrels through the trees and how sore he felt after only an hour of such exertion. The rat who had outrun an army of Lutins had been bested by two children!

"I don't suppose so!"

"I didn't think so," Brightleaf laughed again, finishing off the last of his wine. "Where is Sir Saulius, I thought he would have come to the Inn?"

"Yes, where is that noble knight? I was hoping to meet him too," Brian added.

"Well, after he saw Coe, and thankfully he only fractured a bone in his tail, it'll heal within a few weeks, Sir Andre invited him to dinner at his place. I think those two may become good friends."

Misha brightened visibly at hearing that. "I'm glad to hear it, from what you've told me, Saulius has been miserable for far too long."

"Yes, he has. I'm rather excited by this. Maybe summer holds great promise for us all?"

"If we step up to take it," Lord Avery indicated by wagging his mazer before them.

"Well, let us drink to that then!" Charles held aloft his stein as well. "Let our summer be one of promise!"

"I have no more wine!" Misha lamented, holding his empty.

"I would consider that a good thing," Caroline said, winking at him before turning back around to watch the tiger begin to juggle what appeared to be ten knives.

"Here, have some of mine." Lord Avery poured a bit into the fox's mazer, and soon they all held them aloft. "To the summer, harvest, promise, and good fortune!"

They all repeated the chant, quickly drank the last portions of wine, and wiped their muzzles free of the peachy flavor. Charles could feel a little lightheaded, but since tonight was the last night of the Festival, he felt justified in it. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and that would bring much real work. However, listening to the song and the fellowship of his Metamorians had stirred up something in him that would not settle down. A pride of his land, this land, and of the people that lived there.

"Scratch is almost done, shall we entertain our fellow Keepers afterwards?" Charles asked his friends.

"What did you have in mind?" Misha asked.

"We could sing, I'm sure we all know some of the more familiar tunes."

"That would certainly entertain them," Avery remarked sarcastically. "Really Charles, I do not think you want to inflict my bad singing upon these poor unsuspecting Keepers!"

Lady Avery and the other women had heard their discussion, and each was grinning mischievously, though Charles could tell that Lady Kimberly's was mixed with a bit of adoration that he could not quite isolate. "I think it is a wonderful idea. Why don't you sing The Knight in Nightclothes?"

"Or Three Sailors of Whales?" Caroline suggested impishly. The last was about three drunks who tried to sail their galleon by themselves and end up becoming lost at sea.

"Why not, The Lass from Pallowtry?" Matthias suggested with a cockeyed grin.

Lady Kimberly and the others quickly looked at each other and then the rat replied. "Definitely Three Sailors of Whales."

"Oh I agree," the other two concurred, gazing meaningfully at the three men. "Well, he's done, go on and sing!" Lady Avery waved her paws at them, her face split wide with an involuntary grin.

Misha leaned close into the two as they got up from their seats. "We sing The Lass from Pallowtry after."

Brian Avery gave him an unreadable look, but they could tell that he loved the idea nonetheless. "I do want to sleep with my wife this evening you understand."

The rat and fox both laughed as they all stood in the center, much to the bewilderment of the crowds, till they opened their mouths. At least the crowds didn't start laughing until after the first verse, Charles thought merrily!

As he walked into the Hall of the Writer's Guild that next morning, Charles still felt a bit woozy from the previous night's activities. They had sung more than two songs he remembered, but for the life of him, he could not identify which ones. They had not been able to make their way through all fifty verses of The Lass from Pallowtry, that much he did recall. Lady Kimberly would never let him forget it either!

Still, it had been a wonderful three days, but as the tents came down, and every one began the trek back to their own villages, even Lord and Lady Avery had already departed with their two children, the reality of it all came crashing back upon the rat. He had a duty to perform, one that though distasteful, was very much necessary. So he had sent his requests out the previous eve before retiring to his chambers, and had called the other members of the Guild into attendance.

Sitting down in his customary chair at the head of the long two pronged table, he felt the contours of the familiar cushion, long since imprinted by his tail and thighs. For six years he had directed the course of many promising young authors from this seat. Now another would take his place and he would head to the field of battle. Both to defend the Keep and to stay away from Yonson, a man that he could not touch lest he give away his powers and identity.

However, a second figure quickly joined him in that empty room, lit only by the braziers set into the stonework. Charles glanced back, and saw that the kangaroo Habakkuk was striding forward on his large ungainly feet. The other Headmaster sat next to him, turning the chair to the side. Once the goose had been there, but with his departure, Matthias had put this meddlesome marsupial in his place to keep him busy. So far, it had worked, or at least it seemed to have worked.

"Good morning, Zhypar," Charles breathed, trying to sound polite.

"What are you doing, Charles?" Habakkuk asked, his dark eyes conflicted by two powerful forces. The rat could almost imagine a battle taking place inside those eyes, a clash of two titanic armies that could only destroy each other in the end.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Matthias asked petulantly, already irritated by the kangaroo's paternalism.

"Making a mistake. Trying to crush a diamond as it were. Running away when you should be facing your fears."

Charles turned on him, his face hot and his paws biting back the Sondeck. "What do you know of my fears? What do you know about my decisions?"

"I know about the Chateau Marzac, and the legends that surround it. You forget, my specialty as a trader was in rare books." Habakkuk licked his nose for a moment, wiping some bit of dust from his cheeks. "I have read De'tagne Marguielle before. I use to have a copy written by Helvutien himself, before he took his own life by tearing out his eyes with a serving spoon. I know what you are running away from. I cannot entirely blame you either, I understand why you are about to do what you are about to do."

"What am I about to do?" Matthias asked hotly, slightly disturbed that such a copy of that book, The Taint of Marzac, would still exist.

But before the kangaroo even had a chance to answer him, another Keeper strode into the Hall and took his seat at the table. Charles remained quiet, silently brewing over these disturbing thoughts, trying not to let them alter the course of his actions. His mind was made up, and no matter what foreign lore this merchant had picked up in the course of his travels would change it in the least.

After Prince Phil had finally arrived, and most of the members had assembled, Charles decided that it was time to begin. He wanted to be out of this room now, and away from these unpleasant thoughts. "My fellow writers and guild members, I have called you today to make an announcement that can wait no longer. For some time now I have been falling behind in my duties to you, pursuing my own affairs and my own stories. I now realize that I am no longer helping you as you should be helped, guiding you as you should be guided.

"Thus, I am going to resign as Headmaster of the Writer's Guild." There were shouts of protest, and many assured him that he was doing a fine job. Charles stilled them by raising his paws. Neither Phil nor Habakkuk had moved or stirred any when he'd spoken. "I will be going on a sabbatical till such time as I can continue my duties to you anew. My decisions stands, it will not be changed. But I exercise my authority to name my successor, one who excels in the pedagogic arts even beyond my own abilities. I choose Zhypar Habakkuk to take my place as Head of the Writer's Guild."

The kangaroo did start at that, but only for a moment. "I also choose Tallis to take his place as assistant Headmaster. I've already cleared this with the Duke, so you may begin your duties. I have been planning this departure for some time now, but wanted to wait till after the Summer Solstice was over to let you all know."

He had actually sent Duke Thomas a notice this morning informing him of his decisions as well as suggesting that it would be prudent to act as if this was expected for some time. "I know that this has caught you all unawares, but I do not want this change to distract you from your own pursuits. Thus, I am going to take my leave of you now and let each of you return to your own work, and to your new Headmaster's."

Charles then, turned resolutely about on his paws, and walked towards the back door. The room was still in shocked silence for a moment before somebody called out, "Thank you, Matthias. You have been a friend to us all. We shall miss you here."

The rat bowed his head in silence. He was going to miss them as well. "I will not be gone forever from these halls, I give you my word on that."

Before he let himself be drawn into anymore goodbyes and farewells, he marched through the door, and out into the daylight. The oaken door swung shut behind him, with a resounding thud. It sent a shiver up his spine and down his tail. It could quite possibly be several years before he ever set foot in that building again. He would ask Tallis to bring him his things from his office later. There was not much there of value though.

There was a sullen atmosphere to the day, as the pavilion was slowly deconstructed, and the Keepers returned once more to their normal livelihoods. It reflected the rat's mood quite well. The Festival of his life was over. He had to get back to the reality of his situation. He was a warrior, and that was that.

Walking along the terrazzo pathways down from the Keep, onto the flagstone and cobblestone roads of the town itself, he slowly made his way past house after house, watching the Metamorians go about their morning chores. The sun was bright in the sky, sitting astride the western most portion of the Barrier Range. The warmth of the northern air was seeping through his fur and skin and settling pleasantly in his bones. On some days in August, it got hot enough to remind him of his old home Sondeshara, but he found this climate so much more appealing now, as if it were the only thing he ever knew.

Knocking on the door to Misha's workshop, Charles waited a moment, before he was greeted the fox's pleasant face. "Charles! Is it done?"

The rat nodded and quickly stepped inside, shuddering once. "Yes, I've left the Writer's Guild. It is official now. I suppose by this evening the whole Keep will know. I am ready to be a Long Scout now."

His friend nodded once more, crossing his arms across the pale blue tunic he wore. "I'm sure you think you are, but there is one thing you must do first."

"What is that?"

"You will have to train of course! To be a Long Scout is hard, and it requires many skills that can take quite some time to master. A few will even require years before they are ready to join. I have a feeling you will be prepared to be a Long sooner than that though."

Matthias took a deep breath, pulled out his chewstick, and began to gnaw absently. "So, when do I begin training?"

Misha Brightleaf gave him that mischievous grin that he had come to know over the course of the past few months. He had a suspicion he would know it even better by the time Fall came around. "I would like you to begin your training right now."

Charles laughed slightly, shaking his head and slipping his chew stick back into his belt. "Well, then, let's get started." One paw traced over his black stripe upon his breast. For that brief moment, his mind had returned to his apprentice days at Sondeshara when he too had worn the yellow. And then he was back in Misha's workshop, a yellow of the Long!