The relentless moon shown down. Unable to sleep Pyre went for a walk. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts, he wasn’t aware that he was outside the infirmary until he heard Dr. Kran ask, “Trouble sleeping. I’ve got an elixir that might help.”

Pyre looked at the good doctor standing on the infirmary steps. He honestly looked more weary than Pyre felt. Surely, the man was worried about Loren. Perhaps he needed to talk, or just have the company of someone that knew Loren well. Though Pyre had never been fond of medicine, he said, “I would appreciate that Sir.” He followed Dr. Kran to his office. Of their own accord his eyes went to the secret panel in the back of the room. It was the place that had held Fand while she twice healed. Images of Fand filled Pyre’s brain. She was also was so close in his thoughts. The sound of Dr. Kran opening his medicine cabinet brought Pyre back to the present.

Dr. Kran opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He asked, “Would you like to share a drink?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Take a seat.”

Pyre sat down in the chair in front of Dr. Kran’s desk. Carefully, the doctor poured to shot of whisky. For a few moments they sat in silence before they downed their whisky. Pyre was not much of a drinker and the stuff burned all the way down his throat and into his stomach. His eyes watered a bit.

Dr. Kran put his glass down and said, “Pyre, you have continuously accepted the life that has been forced upon you. You do what is hard, what needs to be done without question. Have you ever wondered why?”

Unsure of how to answer this question, Pyre asked himself, Why have I accepted everything with such obedience! Was such obedience a virtue or was it blindness? Pyre said nothing, in hopes that Dr. Kran would answer the question for him. He didn’t. Instead he asked Pyre another question, “Do you love Fand Geworden?”

Everyone knew he did, still it was hard to get the word, “Yes,” out of his mouth.

The good doctor leveled his gaze to Pyre’s and asked, “Then why are you still here?”

“She doesn’t want me.”

Dr. Kran tilted his head to the side. “How do you know? Have you asked her?”

Pyre’s thoughts began to swim. He was utterly out of his depth. “I did ask her and she refused.”

“That was a while ago. Her heart may have changed.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Dr. Kran poured himself another shot of whisky. “You think, but you don’t know. Do you not love her enough to risk another rejection?”

There was truth in this question. Pyre did not want to ever hurt the way he had hurt the night she rejected him.

“If fear is the only thing that is holding you back, well frankly I am disappointed in you.” Dr. Kran placed the bottle of whisky back inside his desk drawer. “If she’s not worth the risk, then you don’t love her as much as you think you do.” He rose from his desk and said, “You best get back to the dormitory before they find you missing.”

Pyre stood up. He felt like a whipped dog. He bowed the the doctor and headed swiftly down the hall. Outside the moon cast its light upon the world turning it to silver. He looked up at it. Fand suddenly felt very near. So near, as if they were breathing the same air.

*

The potato field had been plowed. Pyre loved the smell of a freshly tilled earth. He stooped down and grabbed a fist full of it. All life depended upon the soil. Slowly he sifted it through his fingers. Behind him, he heard the soft footfall of someone approaching. He turned and was surprised to see Zog. Zog nodded his head in greeting. In his arms was a small girl. She had long dark hair and blue eyes. She looked to be about three. Pyre stood. When Zog reached him, he smiled. His eyes held incredible light.

Pyre asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"Me."

"Of Course."

Pyre looked at the child. She seemed so familiar. "Who is this?"

“This is Zel. Don’t you recognize her?”

“No it isn't. Zel is only a baby.”

"Not here." Briefly Zog placed a gentle hand on Pyre's shoulder. He gave it a squeeze before he said. “We are and live in all times here.”

Pyre did not understand. “What?”

“Our spirits are not confined by time here.”

Confused Pyre asked, “In the potato field?”

Zog laughed. It was that beautiful laugh Pyre had not heard in so long.

Blinking back tears, Pyre said, “I have missed you.”

“I know. I can’t stay long, but I wanted you to know I appreciate all you have done for Zel and all you will do for her. Without you, she won’t survive.”

This seemed like an overstatement to Pyre.

“No, my dear old friend. It is true, and you will see how true as time unfolds.”

In the distance Pyre heard a woman’s voice calling. He turned to the sound. The voice was Fand’s. He turned back to Zog, Zog was gone. Alone stood Zel. She looked up at him with blue, blue eyes. The little girl said, “Come, Mama Fand is calling. That baby is probably screaming again. Only you can make her shut up.” She held out her hand to him.

He did not move. "What baby?"

She rolled her eyes at him and said, “Pym.” Impatiently she took his hand and tugged on it. It was soft and warm and fit in his palm perfectly. She said, "Come on Papa."

"Papa? Where is your papa?"

Zel laughed. It sounded like bells. It was so sweet, Pyre’s heart hurt. The little girl grinned at him and said, “You are so funny Papa."

A great clanging pulled Pyre away from the child. Her hand was jerked out of his. The potato field dissolved. A bell was ringing, the Council City Bell. He awoke with a jerk. Was that eight or nine bells. Blast it all he would be late for his exam or had he missed it? Quickly got out of bed, pulled off his nightshirt and jerked on his robe. He made a mad dash across the Common and went into the recently repaired Languages Building. The place was empty. It must have only been eight bells. Praise the Keeper! He slid into his seat and pulled out his text. He had an hour to study. Though it probably wouldn’t do him any good he would use it well. The door to the room opened. Appocca walked inside. He said, “I need to talk to you.”

There was something about his tone that made Pyre uneasy. he asked, “Has something happened, Sir?”

Appocca shook his head. “No, but something is about to. I can be rather slow witted upon occasion, but last night it occurred to me that you do not look well, nor have you looked well in a long while. I am sure your mother’s cooking will put some meat on you. It is doing wonders for Petran.”

Joy and confusion collided inside of Pyre. He asked, “What about my classes?”

“Take your books with you. We will sort it out later.”

“Are you sure?”

Appocca cocked an eyebrow at him. The decision had been made. It would not be reversed.

Pyre bowed and said, “Thank you Sir.”

“You are welcome, now go pack.”

Not sure he heard right, Pyre asked, “Now?” Again, Appocca’s eye brow cocked. “Sorry Sir. I will.”

Appocca gave him a rare smile. He clamped his hand on Pyre’s shoulder and said, “No need to apologize now off with you.” He patted his shoulder and gave him a little push toward the door.

Pyre felt like he flew out the door. His feet carried him quickly down the hall and out into the night. The moon was still shining. The beautiful moon. Soon he would look into those moon glow eyes, the eyes that would hold him until the day he died. All thoughts of caution were pushed aside. He refused to let worry or fear rob him of the joy that was now singing in his heart. Home, he was going home!

*

The familiar fields of his home stretched before Pyre. Light from the evening sun cut across the fields casting them in gold. The air was so sweet. He breathed in the scents freshly tilled earth and new life. Birds sang madly in the trees. All nature stirred and soared around him. In the City, Spring was contained, out here in the country it ran riot. The perfection of the evening was marred by the small guard house that stood outside the gate of his father’s land. Six Guards in their dark blue uniforms stood stone face and staring. They were armed with spears and long thick bladed knives. The six of them were fierce and so BIG! He looked down the fence line. Spaced thirty or so feet a part were more Guards. They seemed to surround the entire property line! This much protection was necessary to keep Fand and Zel safe? It was a fortress, not a farm! A Guard with deep set dark eyes stepped forward and commanded, “State your name and your business.”

Startled by the volume and force to of the man’s voice Pyre jumped backwards. His own voice became suddenly thin and squeaky, “Pyre Holz, Apprentice of the Council. I have been granted a visit home.”

The Guard held out his huge meaty hand and said, “Me name’s Pomme. Show me yer papers.”

Pyre pulled his identification and Appocca approved permission slip from his bag and handed them over. Pomme looked over the papers then were passed down the line as each of the six guards read them. The last Guard brought them back to Pomme.

With a slight bow of his head, Pomme said, “Permission granted, but keep these on you at all times.”

“Yes Sir.” The gate swung open, it paused a moment and then began to swing back. Pyre rushed through before it closed with a bang.

Pomme whistled. The Guard at the nearest post left his position and joined Pyre. Pomme said, “Fritt, Take him to the house.”

“Yes, Sir.” Fritt was young and several inches taller than Pyre. His long legs moved swiftly down the road. Pyre no longer possessed the stamina of a farmer’s son, and he was soon gasping for air. When they rounded the road the house appeared. The sight of the large tents jutting from behind it shocked Pyre. Blue clad Guards stood at the front door. Some were at work in his mother’s garden. Keeper, this was a prison, not home. Something, someone touched his mind. All at once Pyre became suspicious. He closed his mind to the intruder. He must be wary, something about this whole trip home troubled him. Why had he really been sent here? All questions evaporated the instant he saw a shadow in his sisters' upstairs window. It looked like FAND! Was it? His heart beat began to thrum in his ears.

*Next Week the FINAL Chapter of FAND II