“So . . . how did you become a Guide?” she asked.
“A tree fell on me, and Aradin was the nearest willing mage I could ask to be bound to before I died.” At her flustered look, Teral smiled. “Or did you mean what made me choose to become a Witch in the first place?”
“Yes, that,” she corrected herself. A swipe of her staff severed a tree limb bending their way. She paused to drain it into the glowing crystal at the other end of her staff. “I meant . . . I had a revelation, a moment of divine inspiration, I suppose you could say. I was in a youth choir, organized by the cathedral in my city—my father is an instructor for the Imperial Army, and my mother serves as a road crew mage, so it wasn’t a case of following in either’s footsteps.
“Anyway, we were singing a hymn to the seasons, to the four faces of our Gods . . . and it was so sublime, every note blended in purity and harmony . . . perfect. Just perfect. I knew then that I was being called to serve my Goddess and God.” Smiling softly, ruefully, she continued toward a structure of intertwined branches forming a lacework dome. “It sounds silly to say that a ‘mere song’ inspired me to become a priestess, but over a decade later, I can still remember how perfect everything was in that moment. How holy and pure.
“I could have become a secular sort of mage, but I felt my powers would be better used to serve everyone, not just those who could afford my services,” she concluded. “I know what made Aradin a Witch-priest—proximity to you and your tree,” Saleria dared to tease lightly, since neither man seemed to treat it like a huge tragedy, for all that it had been. “But what made you choose to be a Witch-priest, instead of a normal priest, or a normal mage, or . . . or a bookbinder or something?”
“An excess of mouths to feed. My mother would get pregnant at the drop of her nightshift,” Teral stated bluntly, though with humor in his tone as she gaped at him. “That, milady, was how she put it. I was seventh in a family of thirteen children.”
“Goodness!” Saleria exclaimed softly, impressed by that. “Um . . . not to be rude, but . . . ?”
Teral knew what she was trying to ask delicately. “There was just something about Mother’s energies that, ah, prevented contraceptive amulets and potions from working for her . . . and she did enjoy being mother to a huge brood of little ones. Ours was the house where the neighborhood children would congregate to play, and study, and be accepted, thanks to her. Father worked as a glassmaker, but the trade in our city could only support so many apprentices, and his wages only so many mouths to feed. Particularly when we became teenagers, with the huge appetites to match.
“I was very good at the scholarly arts, so the high priest of our cathedral was willing to sponsor an apprenticeship for me to become a member of the clergy, a clerical sort of priest. But then puberty struck, my magic started coming out, and he had me transferred to Witch-craft training. I had some aptitude for trading and negotiating, so eventually I was apprenticed to this rather elderly woman named Alaya Vondren. Her Guide was male, you see, and they thought that with so many sisters in my family background, I could handle being paired with a female when it was Alaya’s turn to pass on and become a Guide,” Teral stated. “They already knew she could handle being paired with a male.”
They were almost to the Bower, following the path as it switched back and forth at a gentle slope down into the bowl-like vale at the heart of the Grove. Saleria kept an eye out for warped plants and animals, but her curiosity was strong. “You’ve mentioned you have a God and Goddess . . .”
“Yes, the Dual One. Darkhan, the Dead God, formerly the God of Elder Brother Moon before its destruction thousands of years ago,” Teral said, “and His Host, Dark Ana, formerly the mortal Arch Priestess Ana.”
“Well . . . I can understand why it would be more comfortable to be paired with someone of the same gender constantly sharing your life,” Saleria stated, “but from a theological standpoint, wouldn’t it make more sense for all of you to swap genders every generation, so to speak?”
He chuckled, his voice deepening almost to Aradin’s bass. Grinning, he rubbed at his neatly trimmed beard. “You’ve hit the nail on the head with your hammer, there. Yes, it would make more sense. But to serve as a Witch, one must be willing to do so. Growing up with as many sisters as brothers, older and younger and all learning how to get along with each other, I was . . . comfortable, I suppose you could say, around the fairer sex. From listening to my sisters’ plaints, I could understand some of how they thought. Then again, I wasn’t completely sure I’d want to share my life with Alaya once she’d passed on from Host to Guide . . . until I got to know her.”