Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #22 January 2016 | Page 33

“I don’t need to!” Keilara shot back, flushed.
“I cannot even bear to stay inside our home for
days on end. What makes you think I can handle
the temple’s persistence to being indoors?! The
Wildsong—”
“Oh yes,” he sneered. “The ‘Wildsong’.
You claim it controls you, but you are hardly doing
anything with it! I wonder at your lack of willpower,
daughter.”

“Father!” Keilara drew back, hurt by his harsh
words. “Have you not heard what Elder Sevin said?
That those with Wildsong are inevitably drawn to the
wild, to the land? I cannot resist; at most all I can do is
learn to balance it out!”

Alandir Moonstar snorted, derision very clear.
“The Druids. Hmph. They worship a lesser being and
claim to obey His every will. They should follow
Eiless: She Who Rules Us All!”

Keilara resisted the urge to bring a palm to
her forehead. Her father was so stubborn, it was a
miracle her mother managed to be his mate for all
these millennia. Or that her mother hadn’t killed
him. “Father,” she said firmly. “You know as well
as I do that Nahele is Eiless’s son! It’s practically
worshipping Her! And besides all that, we have the
right to follow whoever we please—and you cannot
tell me that I’m wrong about that!”

“Keilara,” he grumbled. “Enough. You are to
follow me into the priesthood—that is final!”

“NO!”

Outside, seated at the bench under a small
grove of trees, Kythsharra and Danaesy exchanged
looks. “Oh dear,” Danaesy managed with a worried
expression. “They’re at it again.”

Kythsharra consoled her younger sister with
a comforting pat. “They do it every so often. Then
they’ll just ignore it for a decade or two and do it
again.”

“But why does Father keep insisting Keilara do
something that she doesn’t want to do? Even I know
she’s not suited to be a priestess!” Danaesy tugged at
her hair, her brows furrowed.

Kythsharra hesitated. “I don’t know,” she
finally answered, frowning. “It’s strange even to me.
Keilara and I both hear the Wildsong, though hers
is apparently stronger than mine. I don’t know why
Father is forcing her and not us, or me as well.”

“I wonder why I don’t hear it,” Danaesy said
thoughtfully. Above them, Keilara continued her loud
argument with Alandir, though the sisters were attuned
to ignoring it. “I mean… Keilara was ten when she
heard it. You a bit older. I’m almost a century old
now.”

“Maybe you didn’t inherit it,” Kythsharra said
gently. She understood her sister’s fears however.
A family full of potentially powerful people, and
Danaesy was the odd one out. She was sweet, gentle,
graced with composure and maturity beyond her years.
Yet, she seemed to lack a strength in a particular skill.
She was skilled in herbalism, but worthless when it
came to putting the plants to good use. She was patient
in tending to their cat mounts, but could not ride one
to save her life. In essence, she was skilled in many,
but not a master of one.

“Maybe, but… what do I do then?” Danaesy
asked worriedly.

“You’re young yet, little sister,” Keilara said,
abruptly stalking out of the house. Her cheeks were
flushed, her eyes blazing. “You’ll find your niche soon
enough.”

“Are you all right?” Danaesy touched her
sister’s forearm, concern etched on her youthful face.

Keilara hesitated, her throat thick with
emotion. “No.” She covered her eyes with her hand,
held by a sob. “Why doesn’t Father get it? I can’t…
I’m not meant to be a priestess! I’m meant to be out
there, running with