Isiah rubbed at his eyes and wished he’d been able to get more than a few hours of sleep. He’d been far too excited to sleep properly, the idea of finally leaving and seeing the world had gone around and around in his head for hours. He had only seen the little village nearby once or twice. Now he would be travelling all over Brenmar, and maybe even all over Vishera if the treaty went well.

His single bag of clothes sat on the ground next to him. They were never allowed to take much, some clothes, a little bit of food and a pouch of money the Mother gave to them as a gift. Anything else was seen as too materialistic and too heavy to carry on their long journey. The only other things he could take with him were anything gifted to him by the people he would work for. If he was given any gifts.

The Mother stood nearby, talking with the Princess and surrounded by the other monks. The day before hadn’t gone at all as he thought it would. He’d expected the Princess to look down her nose at him, but she’d been polite enough. Isiah had never spoken to someone of royalty before. He hadn’t known what he was and wasn’t allowed to say, but the Princess hadn’t appeared offended by him.

He could only hope he didn’t mess it up on the few days they would spend together. A week at most, the Mother had said. A week travelling in the carriage with the Princess. He hoped they wouldn’t have to talk much, lest he embarrasses himself.

The carriage stood where it had been left the day before, the horses chewing on apples brought to them by the children. It was more lavish than anything Isiah had seen before, except, of course, the crystal and its surrounding statues. The castle would be the same. It would be a miracle if somehow managed not to come across as a bumbling simpleton.

When he had first seen her, Isiah hadn’t known what to think about the Princess. He’d heard stories of what the Askari looked like, but he had never thought he would get a chance to see one. All of them had deep blue and indigo skin, striking white hair and a single point on their ears. Some, like the Princess and her advisor, had hair that reached down to their backs, while the guards stationed with her kept theirs as short as his.

The difference had been shocking. But it was something he would have to get used to quickly if he was going to travel with her. He would be the odd one out among the group, the single Ishini.

As he stood against the wall of the tower, watching and thinking, one of the guards grabbed the Princess’s bag and dropped it in the back of the carriage. Isiah stared in confusion for a moment when the guard walked over to him and hurriedly handed him his bag.

A voice called his name. The Mother was walking towards him, her eyebrows raised expectantly. The Princess and the other monks were nowhere to be seen. He rushed forward, his cheeks hot with embarrassment, and bowed before her. “Greetings, Mother.”

“Greetings, Isiah,” she replied, an amused smile pulling at her lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. I have not slept much,” he answered. He shivered, the cool breeze whipping at his hair.

The Mother hummed and grabbed his wrist with a gentle hand. “It is alright to be nervous, Isiah, the world is a strange and dangerous place, but I know you will be alright,” she said. Her voice soothed him. “There is a place you should go on your journey, once sacred to us. Over in the mountains to the west, in the valley between the two tallest mountains. It is safe there.”

Isiah frowned and took a step back, the Mother’s hand falling from its place on his arm. “Safe? Why would I-”

“This world is dangerous, Isiah. You can’t always trust the words of others.” The Mother’s voice was serious, forcing him to listen. He dared not look away from her face, from the red eyes that bore into him. “If anything happens on your journey, head west. This place is not as safe as you would think. We are too close to the border.”

The border? He glanced over his shoulder. The Princess was climbing into her carriage as they spoke, talking to her advisor. “Do you think there will be war? Mother, she’s here to sign a treaty! There will be peace.”

The Mother ran a hand through her greying hair. “I do not trust our new King, he is the son of the old one after all. Sons tend to take after their fathers.” Isiah wouldn’t know. He’d never met either of his parents, gifted to the Sanctum of Ishin when he was only a few days old.

But if what the Mother said was true, it meant she did not trust in the treaty or the foreign Princess either. It didn’t make sense for either her or King Harudan to agree to a treaty if there wasn’t going to be peace between their countries. “Mother-”

“Perhaps I am just old. I have seen many things and I no longer trust the world,” she said with a sigh. “Maybe you’re right to be optimistic, my child, I hope you are. But if anything happens, go west. Even if nothing happens, it would be good for you to visit.”

He was silent for a moment. The Mother was older than him, wiser than him, he should listen to her words. But there was a part of him that whispered that she was wrong, that the treaty would work. “Of course, Mother. I will.”

“Thank you, my child,” the Mother replied, a gentle smile on her frail face. Her eyes drifted over his shoulder. “They are waiting for you. You had better go. Have a safe journey, Isiah, I will see you in a year.”

Isiah bowed, hands clasped in front of him. “I am pleased to have served you, Mother,” he said.

“Thank you for serving me, Isiah.”

There was nothing else to say. This was goodbye. For the first time in his life, he would be leaving the confines of the Sanctum and venturing further than he ever thought possible. Leaving felt strange. He didn’t feel ready. His stomach ached and his hands shook with nervousness. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him, but he was excited for what was to come.

Princess Sharina barely spared him a glance as he climbed into the carriage and sat next to her balding advisor. He bunched his robes around him and settled with his hands in his lap. There was a tiny window in the door and when it closed, he could barely see the Mother and the other monks watching the carriage intently through it.

One of the guards thumped on the side of the carriage and with a jolt, it was off. It rumbled over the uneven land. Isiah couldn’t take his eyes away from his home, the ruins and the wooden buildings and the statues of his Gods in the distance. The Mother lifted a hand to wave to him until his view was swallowed up by trees.

The Sanctum was usually surrounded by lush forests, but in winter, most of the trees lost their leaves. Only the sparse evergreens cast shade over the road, their colour dulled by the grey around them. Despite it, Isiah couldn’t take his eyes away from them. They were only trees, but even such simple things made him excited.

There were only half an hour away when soft snores filled the carriage. Isiah held back a laugh at the sleeping advisor. “Ignore him,” the Princess said, no hint of amusement in her voice. “All he does is sleep.”

Isiah nodded. He wanted to speak, felt like there was something he had to say. “Thank you for allowing me to travel with you, your Highness,” he said, anything to fill the silence.

But Princess Sharina only waved him away and turned to stare out of the window. Isiah cast his gaze to the floor as the carriage rolled over another bump. The Princess had been polite enough with him the day before. What had changed in the last few hours?

He hadn’t sat with her during dinner. The monks had called him over so he could be with them when they went to pray. Princess Sharina and her advisor had sat with the Mother and the other head monks. He’d watched throughout the night. She’d seemed happy enough to be there, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

Or maybe it was something else entirely. “Are you nervous about the treaty, your Highness?” he asked.

Her head snapped towards him, white eyebrows furrowed and her purple eyes fixated on him. “How do you know about that?” she asked, her voice laced with anger.

“I- Everyone knows about it, Princess,” he answered and tried to resist the urge to chew on his lip. “King Harudan announced it a couple of weeks ago. He thought it would make us happy. Everyone in Brenmar knows.”

The Princess didn’t say anything for a long moment and Isiah thought he had done something wrong. “We dared not to tell our people until the treaty was said and done,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “We didn’t want them to get worked up in case…”

“In case things didn’t go as planned?” Their conversation was lined with nervousness and the snoring of the advisor next to him. As he spoke, Princess Sharina reached up and pulled at the bindings in her hair, letting it flow down her shoulders and chest.

Isiah marvelled at it. It was as white as snow and longer than any person’s hair he had ever seen. “Yes, exactly,” she said. Her words pulled him back to reality. She sighed and ran her hands through the curly locks. “What will you do when you get to Ishmar?”

The question stumped him for a minute as he tried to register the change in subject. “I will work in the castle for three months, doing whatever jobs the King orders of me.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It is tradition. I think it’s meant to strengthen the bond between the Old Gods and the New,” he said, rattling off the explanation the Mother had given him whenever he asked. “After that, I am free to go where I wish. But most stay in Brenmar. It is too dangerous to go elsewhere.”

“You would like to see Minisia?”

“I would like to see all of Vishera one day. I don’t think it’s possible, but I think it’s worth it to dream,” he said and gave her the smallest of smiles. Still, she played with her hair. “Why do all of your people wear their hair so long?”

She smiled at the floor. “It is tradition. The common people wear it long and the warriors wear it short. It’s meant to signify status, but it hasn’t done that in years,” she replied, smiling ruefully.

He wasn’t going to question her further. Whatever was going through her mind was private. It was not his place to ask her about it. He was only an apprentice monk. A monk of a religion she didn’t even follow. He had no right to ask her anything. But even so, he wanted to learn. He probably wouldn’t have another chance to talk to an Askari. It just so happened that the one Askari he could talk to was the Crown Princess.

But he had to fill the silence somehow. “Are you excited to be going to Ishmar?” he asked.

Princess Sharina sighed. “Yes, of course,” she said. “Must we speak? I am not in the mood for it.”

Isiah held back the sneer that threatened to form. “My apologies, your Highness,” he said, and turned to look out the window once more.

The hours passed by, long and slow. Isiah watched the world go by for most of it, but it didn’t take long for the excited feeling he had had to fade. Trees and fields looked the same after a time. Occasionally, they would pass by a small town, but they never stopped, not until the sun had sunk towards the horizon.

He tried to stay excited, but it hadn’t been a good start to his pilgrimage. He’d thought there would be more to see, more to do, more to talk about. But all it had been was the sound of snoring, an irritable Princess and a view that never changed. It would be better in Ishmar, where there was always something to do and people to talk to.

It was strange, knowing he would be away from the place he called home for a year. It was something he had looked forward to for years and was still looking forward to. Once he got to Ishmar, he’d be able to see the beauty of Brenmar. And afterwards, there would be a journey of his own choosing.