Life of a TemplarLife of a Templar2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The sun hung low in the sky, peeking out under yellow clouds like a baleful red eye. Water in the muddy ruts that marked the road was stained bloody by it. Passing travelers tromped along, splashing this all over themselves and anyone else on the road. Once deposited it turned to filth again and the "blood" was left in their wake for the next pair of boots to encounter. It was strangely appropriate, Ser August mused.
Childe Wyatt was forbidden to speak until they'd arrived at their destination. He was bristling with energy and fairly bounced along in his armor. The boy did not yet understand the necessity of silence, of patience, but he was not hopeless and would with time. And... it was pleasing to think of having another comrade among the Brothers, regardless of age, who looked and saw. Who understood. Not like Eglantine and zealots like him.
The Chant came easily to August out of long practice, the words in Ancient Tevinter being much unlike the translations used by the Chanters. Th