The road the Master decided to take to leave was well worn. Over the years, it had been used to transport both supplies and synners to their contract destinations, and within the few hundred years, it had proved to be ever more useful than before, due to the fact that the road was wide, flat, and held few rocks for wagon wheels to break upon.

Edryd, Batch, Irun, and I were two horse-lengths behind the trio, and wondered what sort of things they might discuss whenever they thought no one would be eavesdropping.

“I'd wager they're talking about all the whoring they'll do once we get to Coltend Castle,” Irun said, hoping no one else had heard him. “Shut up, you red-headed dolt. If one of them hears you, it'll mean both of us being discharged from the synners for spreading false accusations,” the rider beside him shot back. “Well, well, Batch, I'd have never taken you to be one who worries so much about that,” Irun said sarcastically.

“Just as I am absolutely certain that you are truly too much of a dumb-fuck to comprehend why I actually do care,” Batch retorted. “As much as I find the synners to be little more than mercenaries with special abilities, it’s the life I’ve decided to continue living. Not for gold, but glory, you goat-plowing turd,” he said with a disgusted look on his face. “Oi, take that back!” Irun said. Edryd rolled his eyes after overhearing their belligerent conversation. “You two never know when to shut up, do you?” he spat.

Batch looked over at Edryd on his left and shrugged. “What? Don't look at me,” Batch said, attempting to deflect Edryd's piercing gaze. “It's not my fault he has the brain of a field mouse and the mouth of one of them damned harpies,” he said. Irun shot him a look of disbelief and scoffed. “I have no such thing,” he began. “I happen to have the best grades in timed logical reasoning, mind you. Besides, mocking someone’s intelligence often means you have very little, yourself,” he continued as though comparing grades might have somehow helped his case.

“It's not that your grades don't mean anything,” I began saying with a grin on my face. “It's just that you really are an idiot who loves running his mouth.” The three boys chuckled at the last comment. However, Irun was white knuckling over the comment for the next few minutes, praying his beloved Isla wasn’t listening.

She was.

I watched as Irun caught her gaze, blushed, and immediately began to fume over the others’ laughter. He had never really enjoyed being the ass-end of our jokes, but it’s not like he didn’t make any at our expense. Basically, he was a bit of a shit-head who didn’t know how to laugh at himself, though that didn’t make him any less our friend.

“Don’t worry about them,” a female voice came from behind him. He turned to face the beautiful Isla, whom he had desired since he first laid eyes on. He felt warmth coming from her blue-eyed stare. He attempted to shift his gaze away from her, and yet failed as he locked on to her golden hair flowing in the breeze. “I’ll do my best,” he said bashfully. “I pray that you do,” she returned with a warm, friendly smile which he embedded in his memory like an engraving in stone. He took everything into consideration: his recent past mishaps and faults, as well as this most recent attempt at trying to fit in with the other synners - of which none had succeeded - and felt at a loss.

He must be ridiculing us in his head. Poor bastard never learned that it’s not that we don’t like him, he’s just a bit out of touch, I thought, watching him click his tongue and shake his head in our direction.

I knew he wouldn’t stay angry forever, for the image of Isla seemed to nullify any feelings of anger or hatred the more he thought about her, or so he would always tell us.

After our banter, I looked around excitedly, for I had never left Codrean's walls before on an expedition since having become a synner. Not to say that I hadn’t left the fortress, but it wasn’t as if we’d ever gone much further than a kilometer or two.

The only exception to this, however, was during my childhood, and those few, short years I spent outside the fortress itself. I was in awe to see so many different kinds of trees lining the road. Cedar, oak, elm, redwood, pine, spruce, and hickory were just a few of the trees I recognized from the books he had read during his time within the walls.

To finally see these magnificent beings up close and personal is like nothing I've ever felt before, he thought. It's almost as though I can feel them pulsating with the same mana we synners draw from the Ethereal, though on a much more tangible level, I thought as I gazed at my surroundings with my jaw just slightly agape.

The trees moved and swayed in the cold wind, as though they were some of the ancient Dericoed of Caegwyn – giant trees that could move about of their own free will without posing a threat to anything or anyone unless threatened. The rain from the day before had washed away most of the fresher tracks along the road, though the deeper cart-wheel grooves could still be seen. Birds sang and flew overhead, aiming towards their nests in the canopy.

It’s so peaceful out here, I thought.

I finally decided to look ahead, and saw a large fork in the road with a way-post standing between the two paths. “Take the right,” Bernar shouted back to the company. The company pulled on the right side of their reins and everyone flowed down the path as one body. I rode by the worn down oak post, with deeply scratched markings in its planks pointing in the direction of other cities. The first board pointed to the North of their current position towards Elvsbyen – a town of tradesmen and fishermen who lived on the Elv Avliv River. The second pointed towards their current destination – Coltend Castle, where the king had summoned them for an, as of yet, unknown reason.

I can't help but wonder what Coltend looks like, after all, I've only heard stories and tales of its grandeur. Some of Coltend’s greatest leaders have also come from there, from what I’ve read, and now that I’m finally on my way, I can’t wait to see it for myself, I thought.

We continued down the well beaten path for a few more kilometers, when Garret spotted something a few hundred meters down the road.

“Master,” he began. “What is it, Garret,” the Master asked. “I count thirty or more glicks converging on a single wagon a short ways away. I believe it to be in our interest to investigate the matter, as they have never been seen this close to our home,” he stated. The Master simply nodded. “Ill news, indeed. Take eight of the more experienced synners with you, and four of the lesser experienced, for they have yet to feed their blades,” he said. “Very well, Master,” Garret replied. He nodded and looked back towards the small company.

“Edryd, Batch, Irun, and Thoma,” Garret called out. The boys and I looked at each other with a fair amount of surprise on our faces. I began looking for my brother, praying he could give me some final advice about the dangers we were about to face. Bernar spun his horse around at hearing my name being called out and rode back towards me.

He curved around and rode up to my side. “This is your chance, little brother. Don't fuck this up by trying out your spell just yet,” he said quietly. “Don't worry,” I began, “I'm smart enough to know that one should never use an untested spell in open combat, unlike someone I've heard of,” I finished his sentence with a grin.

Bernar chortled and grinned back, riding over to the Master's side. Edryd, Batch and Irun were already becoming nervous, and I think some of their nervousness began to bleed onto me, as well. Their palms and foreheads began to sweat, even in the cold of the early morn, and it was easy to see that things could go very wrong very quickly.

We looked at each other, each seeking reassurance, though there was not much to be found, for each and every one of us was just as scared as the other. Irun turned to take what he thought might be his last look at Isla, and she returned his frightened stare with a warm, encouraging smile.

“The rest of you lot back over there, with me,” Garret pointed to the corner of the triangular formation. The eight synners who were there – four bow-casters and four sword-casters – nodded in agreement, and kicked their spurs into their horses’ sides. “Let's move,” Garret ordered, and as soon as those words left his mouth, my heels found themselves in my horse’s sides. The thirteen of us rode off towards the downed cart at a gallop. I looked back at my older brother who simply grinned and nodded as though he were encouraging me onward.

“We're in it now,” Batch began, catching up with Edryd, Irun and I. “Let's not put our training to waste, now shall we?” he said, obviously trying to sound much braver than he was outwardly showing. “Did your training involve running your mouth? Or, maybe, you have some kind of Master Plan behind your words,” Garret spat back towards him, to which Batch could only respond with silence.  “Oh, you don’t? I thought not. Now, shut the fuck up, and focus!” Garret said, looking back at the rest of us, too. “Smooth,” Irun said under his breath with a smug look on his face.