Elwyn lay awake, huddled within the heap of Togar's bed. Fear weighed upon him. Alone in this place, he felt unwanted. Had his sin been so great as to make Togar abandon him here? Such thoughts spun in his head for the hours that he lay there. When he could stand it no longer and had accepted that sleep was not coming to him, he sat up. His eyes adjusted easily to the darkness around him. Touching nothing, he looked more closely at the things about him.

Considering what he would do if Togar did not return, he looked down into the uncovered pots and sniffed the opened jars. He would not return to town. No one there could teach him what he needed to know. But without Togar, would being here offer him anything better? As he continued to explore this small place, he began to believe that there was much here he could learn from.

The door swung open and Togar stepped into the hut. With all his effort, Elwyn was able to keep himself from embracing the man. He wept his gratitude silently and was glad that, like father, Togar could not see in darkness. But Togar covered the distance between them easily and even in blindness, he grasped the boy's chin.

"Be careful what you touch in this place," he said.

He was quiet a moment before he shoved folded clothing into his chest. Elwyn took the items without looking because Togar's fingers had not released him.

"Do not weep for me," he growled. Then his voice became soft and tender, "I am not worth it."

He lightly kissed the boy's forehead before releasing him. Elwyn could still feel where those fingers had been. The firm grip had been borderline to painful. But it was the place Togar's lips had touched that caused him to feel distress. He was ashamed that he had cried and felt humiliated that Togar had known. Yet it had been a kind gesture.

Togar settled himself into bed and was snoring within a few minutes. Elwyn looked down at the black leather. If he wore it, most of his body would be covered, preventing his skin from coming into contact with the world. Were his visions that dangerous or was it this place? Laying it on the floor, he decided to consider them a uniform for his training. Most apprentices had one. Why shouldn't he?

Each morning, he woke to the sound of Togar working outside. He would don the odd attire that his master had given him. At first, it had been uncomfortable, making it difficult to feel what his hands touched. But he soon adjusted and regained the nimbleness of his fingers. Visions no longer came to him except on the rare occasion when he master ordered him to remove a glove. Those times frightened him.

They would settled into a rhythm of work while Togar silently taught the boy his trade. They would rest and eat their meals together. Elwyn learned quickly; eager and hungry for the knowledge. He did not understand where this was leading him, but he could sense a bigger picture slowly coming into focus. He also knew that his visions were some how a part of all of this.

Days, then weeks, then months slipped by. Upon the arrival of his first year, Togar had pulled out a heavy sword and handed it to Elwyn. The boy had dropped it as soon as he realized what he was holding.

"No," Elwyn said firmly.

"A time will come when war will find this place. You know that."

Elwyn stared down at the sword. Bile rose up and he vomited onto the blade. Togar scooped the sword up and flicked it to remove the majority of the vomit.

"I had been hoping for a better start," he said.

His voice was not unkind. As he passed, he gently patted Elwyn on the head.

Several days passed before the sword was again put into Elwyn's hands. He dropped it just as quickly.

"No."

Togar stared at the boy for a time, then asked "How will you defend yourself? Your family?"

"I will not become what they are," he said softly.

"How do you protect the ones you love?" Togar pushed.

"I'll learn to see better," Elwyn stated.

Togar gave no response.

"I'll warn them so we can hide until the danger passes," Elwyn added.

Still no response from his master.

"I will confuse the enemy so they become lost in their own minds."

The possibility had never before occurred to him, but as soon as he said it, he was sure that he could do it. But still, Togar seemed unimpressed.

"I will not be a killer!" Elwyn shouted as he kicked the sword away.

Togar collected it and carried it with him into the woods. He never brought it out again. A part of Elwyn understood then that Togar had decided that he would have to be protected. But he didn't want to accept that. He would find his own way. There had to be answers that did not require death. The sword made him wonder how many Togar had cut down. Did he remember their faces? Did their deaths weigh on him?

When Togar returned he was carrying a stack of wood. Elwyn rose and moved to help with the task. Togar shook his head and the boy stopped, watching the man work without him. Heat rose up from his gut and flowered across his chest. Anger flashed and he felt his eyes blazing.

"So, you'll cast me out then?" Elwyn asked.

Togar glanced at the boy, then turned away to continue his work.

Lashing out, Elwyn summoned up imagines of writhing bodies and burning children. He threw them toward Togar and felt that he had hit his mark. Image after image, he drew up and tossed out. Pulling up every thing that his visions had ever frightened him with along with the feelings of terror and helplessness that they had evoked.

"That's good," Togar said as he turned to look at the boy.

Fury gripped him and he pulled up the nightmares that had haunted him all his life. Searing flesh falling away from his bones and the agony that never ended. The screaming that sliced into his mind and cut at the thin line of sanity. Hurling it outward and dredging it up again. He relived it, fully immersing himself in the horror of it. Suddenly, he was in Togar's embrace. The man's body trembled as he tried to comfort the boy.

"Not that," Togar whispered.

It occurred to Elwyn that these images had not been new to Togar.

"How?" he asked.

Togar stepped away, shaking his head. This time, Elwyn accepted the dismissal. He shuffled a few steps forward and found that his body had become weak. Falling, he reached out. Togar caught him and carried him into the hut. Once he was tucked into bed, Togar laid his hand onto Elwyn's fore head.

"You over did it," he whispered.

"Seems so," Elwyn said.

"Understand that this too can cut as deep as a sword," Togar said.

"But it won't kill them."

Togar nodded.

"There are things in this world that are worse then death."

Elwyn could not imagine anything worse then the forever of death. It erased all chance, all hopes and dreams. Living meant that things could continue. Life was sacred and was to be protected. Once it was taken, it could never be given back. He had seen the future deaths of most of the people around them. There was nothing after. And all that was left behind was the suffering of those that had loved the dead.

Elwyn shook his head. There was nothing worse then death. Nothing.