Shale was lying in the bell loft, reading her storybook, when she spied the eldabonder. The insect-sized creatures were incredibly rare. Their bodies were an assortment of random objects, stuck together and influenced by a natural essence. This eldabonder had a twig as a thorax and attached to that were seven stones, which acted as rolling limbs.

"How did you get up here?" she asked it.

It stopped. That was peculiar. It was difficult to tell of a creature that had neither ears nor eyes, but it felt like it heard her, like it was watching her.

"Don't be afraid." She flattened her book, offering it a surface to climb onto. "I won't hurt you."

As it edged toward the book, the huge copper bell in the middle of the room shifted and from behind it, appeared a red-haired boy. Shale could only watch in horror as he leapt on top of the eldabonder. He laughed as he ground it under his boot, and when he lifted his foot, the sticks and stones were separated. The remains of the creature bled out its essence, which appeared as very fine tendrils of black smoke.

"What did you do that for?" Shale said, slamming the book closed.

"Do what?" Alashar asked.

"You killed it."

"Killed what?" He glanced to the stick and stones. "The eldabonder?"

"Yes, idiot, the eldabonder."

"Oh, Shale, I didn't kill anything." He held up an index finger. "According to A History of Species by Elarnie Taligum, eldabonders are entirely non-sentient. They're just unthinking forces that bind and move objects without reason or logic. It'd be a bigger crime to crush a daisy."

"And if someone believed you were an unthinking force, Lightboy, would they be right to crush you?"

"Only if they were spry enough to catch me."

"Well if you're half as slow on your feet as you are between the ears, that shouldn't be too hard." She reopened her book and tried to find where she'd left off.

"Come now, Shale, you're not truly angry?"

"No, only the fake kind of angry."

"Alright." He lay next to her and rested his hands behind his head. "Because you do sound angry and your nose is doing that twitchy thing it does when you're in a foul mood, but I believe you." He tapped his foot against the bell, creating an echoing beat. "And since you're not really angry, you won't mind if I stay up here with you?"

"As long as you give me peace to read."

"Must you read the day away again?"

"I like reading. The characters in stories are preferable to those I have to deal with in real life. Besides, what else is there to do?"

"Well, if you stopped being mad, we could go out."

"Out where?"

"Where else but to Silverwood Forest? It's a nice day after all. The sky is clear and the sun is out."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge if he were being serious. "I thought you said it's only safe to leave the monastery on Lunarday, when the SanMothers are busy with the Divine Sacrament."

"And normally that's a steadfast rule to abide by, but today they've dismissed us from all chores and ordered us to stay out of their way. When have you ever known them to be so lax?"

"I did think that was odd."

"And, earlier I peaked into the prayer room and saw them decorating."

"But what does that concern us?"

"Exactly my point." He sat bolt upright and pointed to the ceiling. "Last time they acted like this was when Duke Targust and his retinue came to sup. Isn't it clear that some manner of distinguished company is visiting and they want their shameful lightchildren to become scarce?"

"I mean, that's possible."

"Where better to leave them in peace than out of the grounds? The way I see it, we'd be doing them a favour."

It was impeccable logic, she had to admit. When it came to bending the rules, Alashar's mind rivalled that of the Blessed Scholar. "Are you quite sure it'd be safe?"

"Would I ever lead you astray?"

"I can hardly imagine."

"There is one caveat to this plan though."

"Which is?"

"You'll have to find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Hm, let me think about that." She tapped her chin. Then, quick as a yabberjin diving into the sea, she struck his arm.

"Ow." He pulled back. "What in the name of the Eleven was that for?"

"Justice. Now all is balanced with the world again."

He sprang up, puffed out his chest and did his Kersaja impression. "Then let us be on our way, fast and to the wind, fair maiden."

"Don't push your luck, or you'll have a matching bruise on the opposite arm." She placed her book snugly back inside her satchel, before stowing it in a dusty corner between stacks of old books.

Together, the pair hurried from the loft and descended the spiral stairs of the bell tower. The cobblestones in the yard were slick from this morning's rain. They splashed through several deep puddles on their way into the ground floor corridor of the main building, where they had to creep. They were especially careful when passing the prayer room. The door was slightly ajar, revealing the blue-clad SanMothers working diligently within.

When they arrived at the end of the corridor, they creaked the storage room door open and stepped inside. Shale was first to crawl through the tunnel between supplies, with Alashar sharp on her tail. Then, at the back wall, they laid their hands on the corner slab and pushed. As it shifted and groaned under their accumulative strength, dozens of bugs scurried free from the cracks.

"Disgusting," Alashar said.

"Try to refrain from murdering them."

"I do wonder why you care so much for horrible things."

"I'm friends with you, aren't I?"

With a scrape and a heave, the slab slid free and the room filled with harsh morning light.

"Ladies first," Alashar said.

"As chivalrous as a prince." Shale lay a delicate hand upon her chest.

"And as patient as one too. Now get through before I have your head on a spike."

"You'd be lucky to have an ornament so fine." Before he could retort, she ducked down and wiggled through the gap, ignoring the ants, beetles, and spiders that clung to her shift.

When Alashar joined her on the other side, they quickly slid the slab back into place.

Although it'd rained heavily earlier, now the sky was clear with no clouds in sight, and the sunlight was fierce. Without the battering rain, the activity of the town was very noisy. It was only as the lightchildren emerged from the alleyway and came onto the main thoroughfare that they saw why.

Usually, Silverwood was occupied by peddler carts, traders, and children at play, but today hundreds of hinterland folk flowed along the rutted roads in a sea of roughspun. Merchants were setting up their stalls, minstrels sang roadside for coin, and councillors hung pennant banners and Hekkari flags from rooftops. It was most curious. Shale had been so engrossed in her book all morning that she'd nearly missed the commotion.

"Is it some kind of holy day?" Alashar said.

"You're asking me?"

"Good point. When it comes to Hekkari matters, the only lightchild more oblivious than myself is my present company."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Do you think we should go back?"

He searched the town. His gaze lingered on an eccentric minstrel who slapped the strings of his lute and drummed his foot against the dusty ground. He was performing The Day Reaper, and had painted his face white and dyed his hair and beard silver to fully commit to the role. "No," Alashar said, "This just confirms something important is happening."

"Which means it has nothing to do with us."

"Exactly. Let's be on our way."

They made for the foothills to the east of town and kept going until they reached the border of Silverwood Forest, which was a wall of shrubs, oak trees, bramble, and bonewood trees. Through the thick undergrowth was a hidden trail, made from their very feet from years of exploring. They took this secret trail into the heart of the forest.

Above, the canopy was beginning to take on the autumnal shades of fire. It was so dense that it allowed in only sparse strands of light which made the polliniferous air glow golden and dusty. The king roses and bolibells thrived in such conditions, some growing as big as toddlers, and displaying every kind of luminous colour. The bonewoods were tall and glistened with white sap, making them appear like ethereal pillars.

Eventually, the thick grass and lush flora gave way to shorter grass as they emerged into a clearing. The clearing seemed to be carved into the forest itself. It was bordered by an almost perfect circle of bonewood trees, broken on one side by a sparkling pond.

In short, it was the perfect place for two gallivanting lightchildren, by being both deep enough to be isolated from the town and main roads, but still close enough to rush back in the event of heavy rain.

The only obstructions were the two bonewood trees in the centre. Those were much greyer and more crooked than the others. Shale liked to believe there was something magical about them, that meant nothing but grass could grow near them, but Alashar thought that was silly.

They approached the shorter of the two elder trees, the one with a hole at its base. Kneeling, Alashar dug into the hollow and withdrew two swords. They weren't real swords of iron and steel, but crafts of their own design. A vertical branch of alabaster-coloured bonewood acted as the blade, while a stick of chestnut oak was thatched horizontally, to act as the crossguard.

Clutching their hilts, they marched to opposing sides of the clearing, then swivelled to face each other.

"Are you ready?" Alashar asked.

Shale slid into a nimble stance, akin to the legendary Wind Warriors of Rorean. "Ready to make you bleed, Lightboy."

Alashar stood straight-backed, with his feet together and his sword over his chest, in a more practical stance. "If only we fought a battle of words. That mouth of yours could slay Zahalgud the Destroyer."

"Seeing as the Malijar buried him beneath three leagues of dirt, I'll settle for you."

They charged at each other.