And I indeed took the one less travelled by, as it turns out.

All of us have received visions on our most recent path. Which is very unusual, seeing as not all of us are gifted with Sight of the Third Eye. I for one have known no such gift. The trouble was that those visions were not all the same. We found out that we received two such visions. So we did something we usually avoid doing: We split up.

Warmund, Fyrwyn and Chuláin took one path while Soara, Erias and I took the other.

From what I am told, the other three walked into a stranger and found a monastery in a land where magic supposedly isn’t as common as where we hail from. Moreover, it appears to be limited to the bloodline of the reigning family. Said stranger must have been a member of it, if perhaps an outcast. And to complicate things further, the others have told us about some sort of rifts that opened around their shelter, formerly protected by a sigil that some fool must have broken. Of course, our friends assisted in reforging the seal and establishing a warden to guard and protect it, all while being hindered by the banter and fighting amongst those who claimed to know best. More often than not, such people know, indeed, least well.

To my surprise, Warmund has made friends amongst mages. I admit that, to me, he always appeared to be wary of the gifted, seeing as they wield a lot of power, thus responsibility. I am inclined to agree with him that most people, human or not, severely overestimate their own ego and capabilities in dealing with such forces. It is then much more of a pleasant surprise that Warmund not only saw past his known or unknown prejudice and made some friends. The gods know he can use them, especially outside our circle. There certainly is life beyond the six of us.

Fyrwyn, again, remains a mystery to me: She, like me, has grown up to become a leader, judging by the little I know of her. Unlike me, she refrains much more from prompting the others in any direction. I wonder whether that is because I miss a point about her or our culture – or whether that is part of her personality. Perhaps she feels she still knows too little about all of us to provide proper counsel. Or perhaps I have a very faulty impression of her. I am curious to find out who she will become, the more time passes…

It made me smile to hear that Chuláin apparently befriended the underdog, who turned out to be of much importance and has been named said warden until his sister, still an infant right now, chooses to pick up his abilities as well as his duties. Where others had barely listened to the stranger, Chuláin listened in his quiet, yet sympathetic manner. He offered sound advice and was, as always, willing to stand up for his conviction and, if need be, stand his ground against others. While I still think that sometimes a more diplomatic approach serves us as better, I envy his determination as well as his willingness to give it his all, once he has made up his mind. His heart is more noble than he gives himself credit for.

As for the remaining three of us: We followed a rumor about bloody murder to the settlement of one Ser Afrom. Upon arrival we realized that indeed there had not been human victims, but instead half a dozen of sheep. I reckon either Soara or Erias had dreams about them. They have not told me which of them, nor have they told me about the exact nature of the dream. But, once prompted, we made our way to said settlement.

Once Erias has set his mind to something, he can be impressively persistent in trying to convey his opinion. It did not take long for the three of us to determine that the sheep had been slaughtered by wolves – as is their nature. Of course, we had some convincing to do then, in order to make Ser Afrom understand that not only the sheep must live, but so does the wolf. Erias then made an impressive effort in putting up a one-man performance to open the lordling’s mind for such thoughts: Which is to say that he came up with a wonderful little story – that, of course, Afrom dismissed.

Of course, this resulted in Soara having half a mind to request the local beasts to make themselves a feast of Ser Afrom. Yet, she did not suggest it openly, opting instead to convince Erias and I to remain here and try again. Perhaps she saw something else? Or maybe she simply has the innate instinct to not follow a noble’s request who asks us to leave.

Thus we remained. And after a few days of quiet but consistent advice, Ser Afrom finally saw wisdom in what we kept telling him. So now, there will be dogs protecting the flock of sheep. Sometimes they will fail and the wolves have a feast. Sometimes they will succeed and a wolf may starve. But that is as nature would have it. Whoever gets to live, eventually must die. That is the one certainty that remains for us all.

As for myself? I realize that, once upon a time, I was that same noble. I would not have listened to reason. I would have thought to know better. And I would have sent us away, as I have before. After all these years, traveling in someone else’s skin, I consider myself very fortunate for this second chance of – well – becoming a better man. For nature as well as my home. And my friends. In this, I hope to one day be able and look back at my life to find that, I, too, shared in some in Chuláin’s determination.