"IDIOT! I AM A COMPLETE IDIOT!" Pyre shouted at the moon. Zog had warned him. Seconds before he had gone outside and totally bungled the proposal he had been working on for weeks, Zog had said, "I would wait. Fand does not realize how hard it will be when I am gone. Until she does, she won't know she has any need of you. Wait, just wait."

Pyre had hesitated and asked, "Do you think she will say yes, then?"

"No, but you might stand a better chance. You know she has her heart set on a figment of her own imagination."

Angry, Pyre had gone outside. When he saw Fand bathed in silver light, he lost all resolve and common sense. She was so beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. And she didn't even know it. All he had wanted was to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her. All HE wanted, and that had been his fatal mistake. He knew Fand did not like to be grabbed, yet he had grabbed her and was instantly so intoxicated by the closeness of her that he lost all sanity. IDIOT! This was not how it was supposed to happen at all.

He crossed the fence line of his family's farm. The three huge barns that held the wealth of his father and the surrounding land would someday belong to him. If Fand were materialistic she would take up with him regardless. Because of his family's wealth there were a number of girls after him, but Fand was not materialistic like them. She was a hopeless romantic and she did not want him. To her he was nothing more than a neighbor, a friend, not now, not ever the love of her life. The ache inside him grew even larger. Tears stung his eyes. Why didn't she love him? Why?

Through the kitchen window of his family’s two story granite house, he saw his mother seated at the table drinking tea. She would be so angry with Fand when she found out she had refused. The two women were close. His mother had taught Fand all the female arts, since her own mother could not. His mother would see Fand's refusal of his proposal as betrayal and ingratitude. His mother had a very sharp tongue when she was riled and she would be riled.

Unable to face his mother, Pyre cut across the yard and headed to the horse barn. His hand froze on the latch. Yesterday he and Fand had gone for a ride on his horse, Braun. They had galloped across the fields. Fand's arms had been wrapped tightly around him, so she wouldn't fall. In memory he felt every curve of her. He dropped the latch and headed for the cow barn. Once inside he threw himself onto the hay. From his pocket he took the silver amethyst ring he had meant to give Fand. He hurled it against the barn door. It made a soft ping as it struck the wood. He covered his face with his hands and willed himself not to cry. In his misery he did not hear the barn door open and close. Suddenly the darkness was illuminated by a lantern. Keeper, he thought, Mother has found me. He took down his hands and looked up. The eyes that met his were not his mother's. Pyre jumped to his feet. "Hello, Sir."

Head Councilman Jerue nodded. He was a tall lean man with sharp features. "Pyre," he said as he extended his hand, "I have been anxious to find you this evening."

Pyre took Jerue's hand. His grasp was firm. Pyre tried to match it but the instant he let go of the Elder's hand he knew he had failed. He stuttered, "W-why are you looking for me?"

Jerue smiled. "The Keeper has spoken to me about you."

Incredulous Pyre jabbed his thumb into his chest and asked, "Me?'

"Yes you, Pyre Holz." Jerue hung his lantern on a peg. He asked, "Do you know why the Geworden girl refused you tonight?"

Pyre did but he shook his head.

The Head Councilman said, "The Keeper put a hedge around you where she is concerned, so she would not love you. The Keeper wants you in His service. The Keeper would never allow a mere female to thwart the destiny of one of His chosen."

Pyre stared dumbly at Jerue. "What are you talking about?"

"I am saying the Keeper has called you."

This was fantastic, impossible really. Pyre was a creature of the earth, not the spirit.

In a firm voice Jerue said, "You underestimate yourself Pyre. You are capable of being more than a farmer."

Pyre blurted out, "But I like being a farmer."

Jerue placed his right hand on Pyre's shoulder. His pale blue eyes seemed to search Pyre's soul before he said, "I know you are awestruck, I was amazed myself, but three nights ago the Keeper spoke to me in a dream. He has a special mission for your life. A mission only you can fulfill. Will you accept it?"

Bewildered Pyre stared at Jerue. How could this be? He had not heard or felt any calling.

Softly, Jerue asked, "Do you doubt my word?"

Zog trusted this man implicitly, shouldn't he? Still he had to ask, "But what about Fand?"

Jerue's eyes narrowed. "She is no longer your concern."

The impact of the Head Councilman's words were like a fist thrust through Pyre's gut. She would never, not be, his concern.

Jerue admonished, "Don't look at me like that, son. If your head wasn't so filled with Fand, you would have heard the Keeper's voice and heeded it on your own."

Hot embarrassment colored Pyre's face. Jerue knew he lusted after the girl. The Head Councilman removed his hand from Pyre's shoulder, retrieved his lantern and said, "I was young once too. Now, let us go tell your parents your decision."

Pyre had made no decision. "What Sir?"

Impatience crept into Jerue's tone, "That you are applying to the Council."

"I am?"

Though Pyre’s response had been phrased as question, Jerue took it as a statement. He smiled and said, "Good, now come. Let us share the news with your parents.” He took his lantern off the peg and headed out of the cow barn. Pyre felt sick as he followed Jerue to the house. Inside his mother, Zolla was still sipping her tea, while his father, Rehn was doing figures in his ledger.

Flustered by the Head Councilman's presence, Zolla leapt to her feet, bumped into the table and spilled her tea. Her face turned crimson as she mopped the table with her apron.

Jerue put down his lantern and cleared his throat.

Zolla's color deepened. "Oh, Sir, I am sorry. Please, take a seat."

As Pyre sat down beside Jerue, he saw an amused smile tug at his father's lips. Rehn asked, "What can we do for you this evening, Sir?"

Before Jerue could answer, Zolla interjected, "We were thinking the children should wait until after harvest to marry. Will you be performing the ceremony?"

Jerue's eyes became hard. "I am not here to discuss a wedding of any sort."

Confused Zolla asked, "You aren't?"

"If you don't mind Mrs. Holz I would like to answer your husband's question." Though he did not say it, Pyre got Jerue's meaning. Women were not to speak unless they were spoken to.

Zolla bowed her head and returned to her seat at the table.

To Rehn Jerue said, "I have come to tell you, your son has heeded his true calling. He has agreed to apply to the Council."

Forgetting herself again Zolla said, "No, Sir. You are mistaken. Pyre is to marry Fand."

Jerue's voice was severe when he said, "I assure you I am not mistaken."

Once again bright red color flushed Zolla's face. She mumbled, "I apologize."

Jerue pulled a sheath of papers from his robe. He said, "All that remains is for your son to fill out the necessary documents."

Rehn scratched his head and looked at Pyre. He raised his eyebrows in question.

In that instant Pyre realized the magnitude of this decision. If he signed the papers Jerue had for him, he would deny his inheritance and his birth right as firstborn son. His younger brother Wendon would inherit the farm and all the labor that went with it. Unbidden words formed in Pyre's throat and forced their way though his teeth. He heard himself say, "The Keeper has called me into his service."

He touched his voice box. Where had that come from?

Rehn asked his son, "Are you sure this is what you want son?"

Pyre wanted to scream, No! He looked at Jerue. The ice in the older man's eyes quelled him. Jerue said, "It is what the Keeper wants."

"Is it?" Rehn asked.

Jerue did not respond to the question. He turned to Zolla. "Bring us a quill and ink, please."

Obediently Zolla got the requested items from the cupboard and placed them on the table. With his confused parents looking on, Pyre slowly read the application. He was signing away his life. He opened the ink bottle and dipped the quill. His hand shook as he wrote his signature at the bottom of the last page.

Jerue blotted his signature, smiled and said, "Praise the Keeper for this evening." He tested Pyre's signature with his finger, rolled up the document and put it inside his robe. "Now, if you will excuse me I have another engagement." He picked up his lantern.

Rehn walked Jerue to the door. The instant the back door closed Zolla muttered, "The nerve of that man."

When Rehn returned to the kitchen, he asked, "Is this truly what you want, son?"

"I-well, it is the Keeper's will."

His father said, "According to Jerue."

Zolla burst into tears. "I was so counting on a pretty grandbaby by next year. What pretty babies you and Fand would have made. How could you deny me my grandchildren?"

Rehn scolded, "Zolla you have three other children."

Unable to bear his mother's emotional state, Pyre stood and headed up the kitchen stairs to the room he shared with his brother Wendon. Once there he undressed in the dark. His mother's words echoed in his mind. All he had been able to think about lately was making babies with Fand. His dreams had been filled with the same. Could he and Fand have made a baby by next fall? It would have been wonderful trying. Pyre moaned. If he was accepted and Jerue seemed certain he would be, Pyre would never have a child, never know a woman. Never make love to Fand. In the darkness he whispered, "What have I done?"