Chapter 2

"David…David…wake up, son…" The voice seemed so far away. Where am I? David slowly opened his eyes. He found himself lying in his bed with Father Thernan sitting beside him. The two monks stood behind Thernan with small smiles on their faces. "How long have I been here?" David inquired groggily.

"Since yesterday," Thernan said. "You were brought here right after you fainted. I would have healed you sooner, but I had exhausted all my spells on an old man who came in shortly before you. I could not pray for more until this morning."

David raised an eyebrow. "Did the old man have-"

"Broken ribs?" finished one of the monks. "Indeed, he did. You were very brave, young David. Your dedication to the Crying God is very strong, despite your age. There are fully grown men who would not do what you did."

The comment filled David with pride. "Still, what I did was nothing compared to what you two did!" David said as he sat up quickly, his grogginess puhsed aside by his excitement. "You should have seen it, Father. I have never seen someone move so fast. They even used the Quivering Palm technique! Do you know what that does?" David stopped as he noticed the monks exchange knowing looks and a chuckle.

"Actually, David, I didn't," said the monk who had performed the attack. "That particular technique is beyond my abilities."

This revelation confused David. "Then why…oh!" he said with a knowing smile. "It was a ruse!"

"Indeed, it was. I'll admit it was a gamble, for it was possible that the half-orc would be ignorant of what the Quivering Palm was. It is a good thing he wasn't; it allowed us to end the fight without further violence. Ah, but where are my manners," he said, pressing his palms together and bowing. "I am Adorned Brother Hulder, at your service."

"And I am Adorned Brother Teluhar," said the monk with the tear tattoo, repeating the gesture.

David repeated the gesture, which seemed so please them. "Where are the thugs?" he asked, suddenly remembering what the town guard had said. "Are they still here?"

'No," said Thernan. "They had their wounds tended to and were taken to the jails." He laughed and added, "They still seemed shocked as they left, as if it were beyond their understanding why we would help them at all. If only more people would come to know Ilmater…" He let the sentence hang with a sad expression and a sigh. David knew that it was Father Thernan's dream to have the word of Ilmater in the hearts of all, even if they did not worship the Broken God exclusively.

David started to ask another question, but his stomach rumbled loudly. This didn't surprise him; he had been unconscious for over a day.

"I bet you are starving, son," Thernan said as he stood. "Come, let us eat. Sister Ressea has been cooking your favorite: a hearty chicken vegetable pie." This surprised David. Normally he was only allowed to eat a few mouthfuls of meat at each meal with some bread and cheese, as was required by all members of the church. He only got to eat the chicken pie on his birthday. Excited, he followed them to the kitchens.

* * *

As they ate, David determinedly decided to learn all he could from them. "How many of you are there in the Monastery?" he asked

"Seven hundred, sixty-one," said Teluhar without hesitation. Seeing David's incredulous expression at such a rapid, exact response, he added, "There is one monk for each of the Demalous Martyrs. There can be exactly seven hundred, sixty-one monks at a time, no more, no less."

"Then how does one join?" David asked.

"Only when one of us passes on into Ilmater's Embrace, leaves of our own volition, or, more rarely, is banished for severely breaking tenants," Hulder responded. "It's not a prison; we may leave whenever we like, but we cannot join the ranks ever again."

David gave them a wry smile. "Is there a minimum age requirement?"

The monks laughed at the obvious nature of the question. "Are you seeking membership, young David?" asked Hulder. David just shrugged. "No, there is no set age at which a prospecting member must be, but the Initiation is not to be taken by one too young to endure it. Such qualifications are determined ahead of time."

"Initiation?" David perked up at this little tidbit of knowlege. "What is that like?" For the first time, the monks paused, as if deciding whether or not they were revealing too much. Naturally, this made David even more intrigued.

"Before I tell you this, young David," Teluhar said, "know that we can only reveal just so much. We have no authority to share more than we will. If we don't tell you something specific, it means we can't, and asking will prove unfruitful. Agreed?" David quickly agreed, desperate to hear more.

"Well," Teluhar stared slowly, "once a position becomes available, those wishing for admission must head to the Monastery of the Yellow Rose. It rests on a high peak in the northern Earthspur Mountains. Upon arrival, they are interviewed to determine if they qualify for the Initiation." He paused for a moment, as if deciding how best to continue.

Hulder continued for him. "The Initiates then have to overcome trails, called Gates, based on the principles of Ilmater."

"What are the Gates, exactly?" David asked. He suddenly remembered that he was not supposed to ask questions. He lowered his gaze in shame.

The monks looked at one another for a moment and nodded. Hulder said, "I suppose we could tell you what the Gates are named, but that is all." David nodded, glad the conversation was continuing. "The Gates are named thus: Charity, Humility, Piety, Suffering, and Compassion. Each gate instructs the particular aspect it is named after."

"And once they pass the Initiation, they become Adorned and can then choose their particular field," Teluhar said. "They can choose to become a Chronicler, with focus on genealogy and history, as we have, or they can become a Broken One, the defenders of the faith."

"Holy warriors, if you will," added Hulder.

"Exactly," continued Teluhar. "The third choice would be the Ascetics, those that go out into the world to take on the burdens of the less fortunate."

David pondered that for a moment. If the historians of the Monastery can fight as well as Brothers Hulder and Teluhar, what would the Broken Ones be capable of? He could scarcely imagine such prowess. He pictured himself standing by the old beggars from yesterday, the three thugs unconscious at his feet. I could do so much for the poor if I could fight that well. If my parents had such abilities, maybe they could have protected me rather than-

My parents! thought David. He had been so fascinated by the monks that he had forgotten the very reason he had been so intent on meeting them. He felt a little foolish.

"I have been meaning to ask you something," David said after he finished his pie. "I am an orphan. My parents dropped me off here when I was a baby. They did not tell Father Thernan who they were, only that they were being hunted for their beliefs. I wanted to know if you knew anything of them."

Both monks furrowed their brows looked at one another. After a moment, they both shrugged. "I'm sorry, David, but I cannot say I have heard of this. However, we will research it for you when we return to the Monastery."

David felt a little disappointment, but it quickly faded. I suppose it was foolish of me to think that they would have all the information memorized. At least I'm one step closer to finally getting some answers. He nodded to them. "Thank you. I greatly appreciate it."

The monks stood. "Thank you for the meal. We must go now. We have much work to do. We shall be back around nightfall." It wasn't until then that David realized how little the monks had eaten. Part of their training, perhaps?

"Of course," said Thernan, who had been silent nearly the entire meal. "If you need anything, feel free to ask. I'll be in the worship hall. David, help Sister Ressea clean up here, and then join me." He ruffled David hair and stood.

The monks bowed to Thernan and David in their fashion. "May Ilmater help you bear your burdens." They headed out towards the front door.

As David washed the bowls, he contemplated all he had learned. How amazing it would be to live in the Monastery! Perhaps there will be a vacancy when I am old enough to join. His mind began to wander once again, seeing himself fight off wave upon wave of thugs with impunity. A quick slap on the arm from Ressea brought him back to reality. She seemed to be trying not to laugh. David just grinned and got back to work.

* * *

"Grandmaster Poke was right," Hulder said after they stepped outside out of earshot. "He asked about his parents."

Teluhar nodded. "The Grandmaster of Flowers is rarely mistaken."

"It seems so wrong," Hulder said, shaking his head. "David is a good kid, and he has every right to know-"

"Grandmaster Poke has his reasons," Teluhar interjected. "We both know he should remain ignorant, lest he be tempted. I do not like it, either," he admitted with a sigh, "but we have our orders, and Grandmaster Poke would never do anything Ilmater himself would not approve. We have to trust his judgment."

They turned a corner, headed for the first of the many homes they were to visit today, "Besides," Teluhar continued, "Grandmaster Poke is old and in poor health; I doubt he will still be alive by the time we return. Whoever succeeds him may not wish to keep it secret."