It all began when his father decided that Ayreon should accompany him into the city. The trip took nearly a week on horseback from their tiny village. Ayreon did not have a horse. His father thought it would be good discipline for the boy to run along side his horse though, so Ayreon ran. As they traveled, Ayreon's father quizzed the boy's intelligence by asking him riddles and his opinion on things. At times he blindfolded Ayreon, which required him to trust his instincts. Ayreon continued even in the pouring rain, which did not seem to refresh him, two thunderstorms neither of which spooked the horse, a forest fire, and the appearance of several intelligent creatures of the forest. For Ayreon this was not abnormal, his father believed one should always exercise the mind when one exercised the body and often had his sons perform tasks under some sort of handicap. Each night Ayreon fell exhausted, both mentally and physically, into his bedroll. Each morning he rose from it, refreshed and eager to continue their journey for he was going to the city.

On the afternoon of the seventh day, the city rose up before them and Ayreon rejoiced. They passed through the gates as the sun lowered in the sky. His father led him toward a small tavern with the image of a dancing goat on the door. Once inside, his father secured himself a room and the both of them a meal.

"You will sleep down here with the other boys, and you will not get into trouble. I want you to enjoy your stay, Ayreon." His father pressed four coins into his palm. "Do you understand?"

Ayreon nodded. Nothing could take away his happiness now that he was in the city.

"Good, I have business to attend. If all goes well, we will be leaving in four days. I've paid for you to have breakfast and dinner here, so make sure you do not forget to eat."

"Yes, father," Ayreon said quietly then finished his more than adequate meal as his father rose to go up the stairs. Later, much later, Ayreon found himself being shaken awake, only to be told to lie on a straw-filled mattress in front of the hearth. He did so happily and murmured his thanks as someone covered him with a blanket.

The next morning, after a filling breakfast of bread, cheese, and ale, Ayreon went out and walked the city. It seemed the place had been over-run by boys. They were there in all shapes and sizes with ages seeming to run from barely pubescent to a year or two older than Ayreon, who was only a year or so away from majority himself.

He found all sorts of things to amuse himself with, just as his father predicted. In one square there were boys and men working out with swords, and in another they were wrestling. Other squares throughout the city displayed all sorts of feats of skill. However, he kept being drawn to the same squares over and over. In one, young men were playing a variant of fox and hounds, where four took the field as the hounds while a fifth played kennel master, telling the hounds where to move, and another boy took the field as the fox. As in the normal version, the fox was trying to cross the field, and the hounds were trying to pen him up. However, in this version, the fox could challenge the hound, they could battle it out, and the winner took the square. In the end the looser forfeited the field, and the winner received a charm and the option to take on the next challenger.

Ayreon watched the games go on for a while, noticing that the same boys kept playing the hounds. At the end of a round, the games' master called out for anyone who wanted to play as all challengers had been beaten. Ayreon indicated he would play. After a bit of argument concerning his eligibility, Ayreon found himself on the field, facing the hounds. He had been stripped naked and given a small cloth to wear to indicate his position as fox. He would be given what he needed for the challenges when they arose. He took a central square and faced his opponents. The game began when he crossed the first line. The game progressed quickly, and before he was ready, Ayreon found himself issuing the first challenge. The hound roared out his laughter as the games master called the first challenge to be wrestling. The two moved over to the challenge circle and took their positions.

The crowd cheered both for and against Ayreon, who was certain he would not make it past the first challenge considering their comparative sizes. To make it worse, the large hound was also quick. Ayreon struggled to keep his feet in the circle, slowly being forced backwards.

Knowing the only way to win was to force his opponent out of the ring; Ayreon did what came naturally. He dropped to his bottom, pulling the well-muscled hound with him, and rolled onto his shoulders, effectively flipping the hound over his prone body and out of the ring. The crowd cheered and the games' master called it a good win.

Back on the playing field, Ayreon was faced with fewer opponents, but he still had to make it across to win. He took out another opponent in a darts challenge, and a third by way of staves. That left him with just the one hound and the kennel master. When the hound finally cornered him Ayreon automatically issued the challenge. The games' master ordered them both off the field and over to a log suspended in a cradle of water. Each was to hop on and walk. The first to fall, lost.

It seemed simple enough to Ayreon. Once he was on the log with the hound, he didn't think it was quite so simple. However he was ever so thankful that when the log stopped, he was the one left standing. The hound had bounced on the ground with a resounding thud, and still lay there when Ayreon walked back toward the playing field. He walked from the contested square straight toward the other side with no one to contest him, except the kennel master who was confined to a single space. Unfortunately there was no way past the kennel master without a challenge.

Tiredly Ayreon issued and the games' master laughed when he called out 'riddles'. He would ask a riddle and they each would have the chance to guess correctly. If they both guessed correctly, he would ask another until one of them missed.

Both guessed correctly the first three; then the games' master asked, "A rainbow is my bed, the earth my final resting place, and I am the torment of man. Who am I?"

Ayreon closed his eyes so he could think, then he heard the kennel master respond, "A storm."

That answer did not seem right to Ayreon who tumbled the image around in his mind a few moments more before opening his eyes.

"Do you have an answer?" the games' master asked.

"The rain," Ayreon said quietly then the crowd began to jeer and cheer. Only Ayreon did not realize that they were cheering him. He had won.

The games' master smiled at him. "Are you participating in the games this week?"

Ayreon nodded, still not quite believing that he won.

"Then you will need this," the games' master held out a leather thong with a white fox on it. "So that you may participate in the other games we will start tomorrow with a new fox and a new kennel master."

Ayreon took the thong and placed it over his head so that the small fox rested on his chest. It was with a satisfied grin that he made his way back to the dancing goat. That night there was a bard playing at the hearth. Ayreon watched him play with rapt attention, when the others in the audience participated, so did he, and when the other patrons left, Ayreon accepted the bard's invitation to share a blanket as he had none of his own. Ayreon sighed happily as he snuggled up against the bard, not at all uncomfortable.

In the morning the bard was gone. Ayreon collected his breakfast from the innkeeper who kept looking at him oddly. Ayreon was sure the innkeeper saw something on his face. Just before he left to begin his day, the keeper called out, "Good luck at the games." Ayreon wondered how the keeper knew he was participating in the games, but then remembered the fox, so he smiled and called, "Thank you" back.

That morning Ayreon found himself drawn to the games that involved physical agility. He spent the morning balancing on narrow beams, tumbling, and climbing various objects. He did not win everything he attempted, but he gave it a good try and in many things he succeeded. Charms were often given just for trying but the nicer ones were for the winners. By the end of the day he had several more on his thong.

The bard was back that evening, and again, after all the patrons left, Ayreon found the two of them sharing blankets. Just as he was drifting off, he thought he heard the bard advising him on which games to play the next day.

In the morning Ayreon satisfied his curiosity by searching out the section of the city the bard had suggested. Here he found singing, history and other sorts of mental skills. Ayreon was not very good at most of these type skills but still managed to earn a charm or two for his efforts. However, he soon discovered he was good at the slight of hand skills and won another, although smaller, string of charms. He also did well at some of the tasks where following a precise set of directions was required, after only hearing them once. Toward the end of the day he was watching a group of boys trying to decide what his next game should be when a games' keeper came up to him.

"Which charms have you earned?" the man asked. Ayreon showed him. The man fingered each one smiling slightly at some of them. "Would you like to try one more game? We need another player."

Ayreon nodded. He was willing to try most any of the games, even the ones he was not good at. The man led him to stand inside a circle about six paces across.

"All you have to do is stay in the circle," the man said, then blindfolded Ayreon.

"Stay in the circle? I can try," Ayreon said with confidence.

"I am sure you will do fine," the man assured him, and then there was nothing.

Ayreon stood quietly waiting for the challenge to begin. He felt the wind pick up and it seemed as if rain were pouring down on him. Then his feet burned as if on fire causing the muscles in his legs to flinch, but he stood his ground because his other senses were telling him a fire was illogical. The assault on his senses followed one after the other in rapid succession, but nothing happened to him that was any worse than the things his father had managed. Then voices started. Some called for help, others screamed in agony. He felt hands clawing at his calves and he had to fight back the urge to run, yet he still managed to squelch his fight or flight instinct. However, when the visions began...

He was trembling when everything stopped. Someone touched him. He fought back the urge to scream.

"Shhh, you did well, very well," the man said softly as he removed the blindfold.

Ayreon looked down and saw that he had stepped across the line. He did not recall moving.

"This is for your effort young one," the man held up a charm that resembled a black sphere with a silver streak through it. Ayreon took it, placing it carefully on his thong. "Don't forget to come to the ceremony. Your efforts will be well rewarded."

"Thank you," Ayreon said still looking at the circle, uncertain of what really happened there.

That night the inn was in an uproar with a large amount of wagering going on as to how many boys were going to be accepted into which guilds. Ayreon fingered the charms on his thong and wondered what each of them meant. The bard was not in attendance that night, nor had his father shown up. The innkeeper fed him and suggested that he bed down near the hearth when the men had finally gone.

The next morning, when Ayreon arose, his breakfast sat on the counter as it had for the past three mornings. He sat and ate it while looking at the various charms he had earned and discovered there was one that he did not recall earning -- a small red flower. Ayreon wondered how it got there, but did not remove it. For all the rest, he knew which skill had earned him which charms but not what the charms might mean to the guilds. Besides, it did not matter which guild might be interested in him; he was going home tomorrow. Back to his siblings and their farm, where he would one day marry one of village girls and have a family and farm of his own. Once he finished eating, he decided he should at least go to the ceremony to see which guilds were choosing apprentices today.

He made his way through the crowded streets and found himself standing among a throng of nearly one hundred boys, the younger of which had been relegated to the outer fringes to be picked from another year. Each of the older boys, those no more than a year younger and some up to two years older than Ayreon, proudly displayed a tangle of charms at his neck. Most had many more charms than Ayreon did, although a few had less. There was a group of robed masters who were checking each boy's charms and telling him to which quarter to report. Occasionally, a boy would be sent directly to one or another of the guild masters. When that happened the boy's friends would whoop loudly at their friend's good fortune.

Ayreon patiently waited his turn. He did not need a vocation. He had one. He had only participated in the games to amuse himself while his father tended whatever business he had come here to attend. However, he was eager to see what vocation his skill had brought him, even if he still planned to return home with his father on the morrow. Much quicker than he expected, the ranks before him thinned and soon he was face to face with a person who wore a black robe with the hood pulled down deep enough that Ayreon could not make out his face at all. He held out his hand and Ayreon handed him his charms. The man clicked through them one by one until he came to the red rose.

"Come with me, boy," the man nearly growled at him. With no further notice, he clasped Ayreon's forearm in his fist, and dragged him away from the other boys.

Ayreon was too frightened to protest.

The black clad man stopped in front of a man in white and showed him the charms. Ayreon stood quietly, unsure as to why they were acting this way. The man in white looked up at Ayreon.

"Did you earn all these in competition?"

"All but that one," Ayreon pointed out the rose.

"And how did you come by it?"

Ayreon blushed and stammered, "I.. I'm not sure... honestly... it was not there when I went to bed."

The man in black growled again, "By all rights he should be black!"

The man in white shook his head, "Red has claimed him."

"That is not acceptable!" the man in black shouted. Ayreon recognized that shout. He turned and looked, making out his father's angry face beyond the confines of the hood.

"Father?" Ayreon whispered as the men faced off angrily with one another.

The white robed man grabbed Ayreon by the arm and dragged both he and his father into an alcove. "Tivogu," the man said nearly calmly, "you must accept that he is claimed."

Ayreon looked anxiously between the men, uncertain as to what he should do or say.

"I will not accept it," Tivogu gritted out, "he has been groomed from birth to the black. I would even accept the white, but never red." He turned to face his son, hood falling to his shoulders in the process. "Do you even know what a Red is expected to do?"

Ayreon shook his head, clearly frightened of his father's outburst.

Tivogu took a step nearer his son. "A Red is expected to rut like the bull in the field. A Red does not use their mind in their craft, they use what is between their legs."

The door opened and a red clad figure stepped in. "That is enough, Master Black."

Tivogu looked the newcomer up and down, then curled his lip in a sneer, "When you learn what the black does you will regret your choice, and you will know what will happen to you..."

Ayreon shrank back from his father until he could feel the wall behind him.

"Silence!" the white clad man nearly shouted. "Ayreon, go, please. I will talk with Tivogu. You have nothing to fear."

"I.. I want to go home," Ayreon managed to say after a moment.

"You cannot go home now, you have been tested and claimed." The white began, but Tivogu interrupted, "Do you not understand boy? Home is not an option. Red has claimed you so white won't have you and black can't touch you. The best you can hope for now is failure." Tivogu closed the distance between himself and his eldest, "and my sons do not fail."

Ayreon looked nervously from one man to the next, finally allowing his eyes to rest on the red, which held out his hand. Ayreon took it tentatively.

"There is no Rose sweeter than a Red," the man said as he led Ayreon from his father, across the square and away from the commotion. In short order they were walking through a stout wooden door marked only with a single red rose.

"What will happen to me?" Ayreon finally gathered up the courage to ask the hooded figure.

"What would you like to happen to you?" he was asked back as they walked down a darkened hallway to a room beyond.

"I don't know. Why this guild? What does the Black do?"

"Ah, yes, the War of the Roses. The Black Rose is a guild that specializes in what some would call 'dark arts'. They are the assassins of the kingdom for the most part although they would never admit to such a thing. Many of them are traders, but they can do all sorts of things. I'm sure your father wanted you to be his apprentice, which is why he is so angry with us."

Ayreon attempted to sort out what had happened over the last few days in his mind, but images and thoughts kept tumbling together.

"Why? Why did the red pick me?" Ayreon demanded.

The hooded man turned around and pulled the hood from his head. It was the bard. "You are well suited for the red, Ayreon, for many reasons. You may not understand yet, but hopefully in time you will."

"Do the red.... rut..." Ayreon blushed, "Like father said?"

The bard laughed. It was a joyful sound from deep within his belly. "Do we rut? Of course we do! Do we not use our minds? What do you think?"

Ayreon did not know what to think so he said nothing at all.

The bard calmed down and opened the door to a smallish room. "These are the apprentice's quarters. They are private, and you will find as your training progresses you will need the solitude. Unlike the other guilds, you will not be assigned to any one Master, but will learn from all in residence. Some may ask you to do something that to you may seem odd at the time, but know now they are all essential to your training. Everything you need will be provided to you when you need it. As an apprentice you own nothing, not even the clothing on your back. To help you accept this concept, you will remove your clothing, place them in the fire pit, and burn them to ash. When the ashes have cooled enough for handling, place them in the container you will find outside your door and bring them to me." With that the bard turned and left, leaving Ayreon alone in a strange place faced with a strange request.

Thus began his training which combined a rigorous program of mental and physical tasks designed to develop a boy into a Rose. Days, nights, weeks, then seasons all blended together into one long training session until Ayreon found himself being woken in the middle of the night by the Bard. "Come Ayreon, it is time for you to leave these quarters."

Having nothing to pack and take with him made this transition easy. Ayreon got up and followed the bard to a part of the building he had not visited before. They arrived in a small chamber a few minutes later where a wizened old master sat in a chair. A younger master handed Ayreon a challis. "Drink it all and quickly," he said quietly. Ayreon obeyed.

He woke slowly, as if lifting from a fog, only to find himself curled against the bard in a bed. His entire body ached, but the worst of the throbbing was centered between his legs. "Shhh, don't move, the pain will ease shortly," the bard soothed him and pressed a cup to his lips. Ayreon drank.

When Ayreon next woke he was alone in the bed. He felt strange.

"I'm glad to see you are awake, Ayreon," a voice said from near the bed. Ayreon turned to see a beautiful young man draped in crimson sitting in a chair reading a book. "I am called Forem. Dieja asked me to keep an eye on you until you woke."

Ayreon sat up, his head spinning slightly.

"Don't try to move too quickly; it takes some time to grow accustomed to," Forem laid down his book and moved over to help Ayreon sit up. "Are you hungry? When I finally woke I was starving, and you've been asleep longer than anyone ever remembers it taking. So I know you must be starving." At the mention of food, Ayreon's stomach rumbled. "I can hear that you are," Forem smiled and pulled a cord that hung from the ceiling. "Food should arrive shortly, and maybe Dieja too. He was rather anxious that you slept for so long. To be honest we all were, but it seems that you are just fine."

Ayreon did not know what to make of Forem. He did not stop moving once he was set in motion, nor did he stop talking. Finally, the door opened and the bard came in with two young men dressed in red loincloths. One bore a tray and the other a pitcher. They sat the food down on a table near the bed, bowed slightly, and left. Ayreon watched them go.

"Tell me what you are thinking right now, Ayreon," the bard said gently as Forem quietly spooned food from the tray into a plate.

"They need... want..." Ayreon furrowed his brow as he tried to articulate his feelings. "Protect them," he finally managed to say.

"Yes, they need protecting," the bard smiled, "and even as weak as you are right now you want to protect them don't you?"

Ayreon nodded.

"Good, now eat. You can't protect if you are not strong."

Forem handed Ayreon the plate and watched as the newest member of their order scarped down everything he had been served.

Over the next several months Ayreon worked out with several of the younger Reds and most of the older ones. He learned how to control his thorns, and how to use them most effectively. He learned he was progressing through the training much faster than nearly anyone else who came before him, but he also learned this was expected of him as his father had begun his training for the Black nearly in the cradle. To help him develop properly, he was kept from coming in contact with anyone he might feel needed protecting. Over time he began to understand why he had been treated like he had been when he was a mere apprentice, and before another year had passed Dieja was coming into his room in the middle of the night again...

"Wake up Ayreon, time to move again..."

Ayreon woke up instantly, his heightened senses on full alert. "Why?"

Dieja smiled. "You have an assignment."

"I can't. It's too soon," Ayreon disagreed.

"This one is special, Ayreon, a job only you can do. Just remember that no matter what happens, you are a Red Rose..."

"...and no Rose is sweeter than a red," Ayreon finished for him.

Dieja smiled and nodded. "Your assignment is a simple one, Ayreon. As of right now you have been expelled. You are unfit to be a rose of any color." Dieja handed Ayreon clothing that was well used but serviceable, "Your father is in the city, and he will hear of your disgrace. It is our hope that he will find you and take you back home with him. If he does not, you must make your own way back. Once you are there you will discover whom it is you need to protect."

"What if I can't?" Ayreon asked as he donned the worn apparel, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"You can. Trust yourself and your instincts and you will do well. We can't send you to him directly due to other circumstances, however, if you are disgraced... if you are a failure... they will be less likely to consider you might be a threat." Dieja reached over and stroked a lock of Ayreon's hair out of his face, "You are young. Our program typically lasts three or four years. You have been with us for much less than that. They will not suspect, they cannot suspect. Do you understand?"

"I can protect him," Ayreon said quietly as he followed Dieja to the main level of the building. They stopped just inside the front door.

"Yes, say what you must, do what you must, but he is yours..."

Ayreon felt a strange twinge in his stomach, "Mine... I like the sound of that."

"Just remember that you are loved," Dieja whispered as he leaned in to kiss Ayreon's forehead. "Protect him well." And with that Dieja opened the door and shoved Ayreon out into the cold winter night. Snow had fallen thickly, and Ayreon realized he had nothing more than the clothes on his back. Disgraced to the world, he headed out, hoping old habits died hard and that his father still frequented the Dancing Goat.

Ayreon considered as he walked toward the dancing goat how his father would react to him showing up practically at his doorstep. How suspicious it would look for him to head directly to where his father might be spending the night, and that turned his steps away from the Goat to the hall of the Black Rose...

Shivering from the cold, Ayreon knocked on the door, well pounded is more like what he was doing, as tears crept down his cheeks leaving red trails behind where the cold burned the wet skin. Finally the door opened a crack.

"What is all this ruckus about boy?" an older man asked, blocking the door from being opened any more than a hand's width.

"Please, let me in," Ayreon begged as he felt the warmth against his face.

"And why would I do that?"

"My... father... wanted me... a black..." Ayreon told him through chattering teeth.

"What is your father's name?"

"Ttt-tivogu."

The door opened wide and a strong hand pulled Ayreon inside. "If you're lying boy I'll kill you myself. Now get those wet clothes off and sit there by the fire."

Ayreon stripped and sat. The man left and in a while came back with another man in tow.

"So which of Tivogu's sons are you?"

"Ayreon, sir."

"Ah, the one who defected to red? Why are you here?"

"Had nowhere else to go. They said I wasn't good enough and kicked me out. I thought..." he looked into the fire for a moment, "I thought that maybe I could go home, but I wasn't sure how my father would accept that. So I thought that I might come here and... learn."

"You want to be a black rose?"

"I never didn't want it, but they said that red had claimed me. I had no choice. Now red does not want me."

"Stand up."

Ayreon did as told and felt as the man searched his person. He wasn't sure what he was hoping to find, but it seemed he did not when he finally spoke, "How far along were you in training?"

"I'm not sure, I mean they never said what the training was exactly. I had a small room and did what I was told to do."

"Where you given clothing?"

Ayreon shook his head, "Not until they kicked me out."

A new arrival spoke from the shadow of the door, "Is he marked?"

"Not that I can tell, and he has spoken the truth."

"Typical of Tivogu's sons," the man said as he stepped from the shadow. He sniffed the air, "You reek of the red." He turned to the other two men. "Bathe him and give him a place to sleep. We will speak more of this later."

In a short while, Ayreon found himself bathed and bundled up in warm clothing in a small room with several other boys. He was sure they were servants, but he rightly didn't care. When he woke the other boys were gone. It took him several minutes to find his way to the main hall and the kitchens, and when he did find it, the cook was not very happy to see him. She did, however, feed him.

As Ayreon was finishing his meal, a young man a little older than himself found him and reported that he was wanted, now. Ayreon took his dish over to the washing area, and then followed the other boy to a room with three occupants. The man from the night before who said he smelled, the man who searched his body, and his father.

"Father?" Ayreon said with relief.

"You failed?" his father snapped. "My sons do not fail!"

"Tivogu, he failed at being a red, not at being a black," the man behind the desk chastised Tivogu, and then turned to Ayreon. "We have discussed your predicament and have decided that we will not be taking you on as an apprentice this year. It may be possible that your father can find you another placement. If he does not, then you are welcome to return to the games next year and attempt to qualify for an apprenticeship then. But know this, Ayreon, qualifying a second year is most difficult; so if a placement can be made for you, it would be advisable for you to take it."

"I get to go home?"

"And work on the farm," Tivogu interjected, "I will not have you bothering my students either. Your younger brothers know nothing of the real reason they are there and they know to keep quiet. You will do the same."

"Yes, father."

"Do you have any things?"

Ayreon shook his head.

"Then I guess those will have to do. Come along, I had planned on leaving the city this morning. It may be a late start, but that just means you will have to run a bit faster to keep up."

"Yes, Father."

After a grueling six days, Ayreon was back home. His father informed his brothers that he was a failure and a disgrace to the family, then he was given a place to sleep in a back corner of the kitchen, away from everyone. His brother, Jocen, greeted him privately when the others had all gone to sleep. When Jocen left, Ayreon did not feel so much like a failure.

Over the next few days Ayreon kept mostly to himself, doing the tasks his father set him to do. On the fourth day Ayreon came face to face with the apprentice his father received in his place. He had learned from his siblings the boy's name was Picek. He was maybe a year older than Ayreon with a pockmarked face and dirty fingernails. His eyes flitted from one point of interest to another as if he did not trust himself to look at one thing too long.

"You must be the boy the Master speaks of so often. I remember you from the games."

"You do?"

"Yes, you were one who kept surprising the game's masters by your choice of games. You didn't pick many from any one group before moving on to another group; and you won as the fox. Not too many people can say they have done that."

Ayreon shrugged, "I like to try different things."

"You were chosen by the red?" Picek asked with ill-concealed curiosity, "Your father seemed very angry about it."

"I was, but... well... it didn't turn out all that well."

"Didn't you like the rutting?"

Ayreon blushed and refused to answer. It did not matter that he had not done anything of that nature while he was with the Red. Although Ayreon decided, if he were to think on it, he wanted to something awful with Dieja.

"I think you did," Picek said as he came closer to Ayreon, close enough that Ayreon could feel his breath on his cheek. Then Picek laughed and walked away. Ayreon didn't know what to think. The boy did not seem to be a threat, but neither did he seem to be the one whom needed protecting.

A few days turned into a few weeks and Ayreon was becoming more and more certain that Dieja really had just tossed him out with the pretense of an assignment, then one sunny morning Ayreon was called in from his chores to give aid to the guests who had just arrived. Although he was filthy, he was handed a travel trunk to carry into his family's home where the guests would be staying. Once inside, Ayreon stopped. The man stared at him and Ayreon shivered. His skin prickled and he identified the man as a threat, but he was not sure whom was being threatened.

"This is the one we were talking about, Veesal," Ayreon heard his father tell the man in the room. The man identified as Veesal smiled and looked Ayreon up and down.

"You let a half-trained red live in your home?" the man sneered. "Maybe I should consider a different placement for Kiref."

Tivogu shrugged his shoulders, "He failed as a Red. It makes one consider their methods though, if they only take one apprentice a year from the games and toss him out before he is fully trained," he looked pointedly at Ayreon who shrank back, his heart pounding.

"So you are training him?"

Tivogu shook his head. "He must prove he is worthy to wear the Black at the next games. Until then he does not deserve to be trained. Picek is well on his way to taking his first assignment and Jocen," Tivogu shrugged, "he is coming along well enough. To bring your boy into the mix at this time would not harm any of them. Speaking of which, where is this boy of yours?"

"One of your boys took him off my hands. Looked old enough to be an apprentice."

"Most likely Jocen then, good." Tivogu turned to Ayreon, who still stood quietly by the door. "Go back to your chores, boy, and clean up the dirt you tracked in."

Ayreon nodded his head once and hurried to do as he was told. As he was leaving he heard Veesal chuckle and comment on how quickly Ayreon jumped to obey.

Ayreon barely finished everything he had been told to do before the sun began to set. He knew those back home would be eating dinner, but he was not allowed to eat until his chores were finished. It was the price he paid for being a failure, his father had said. A single hot tear streaked down Ayreon's cheek as he remembered Dieja's last embrace and being told he was loved. He couldn't remember another time in his life that he had been told he was loved by anyone other than Jocen. Ayreon was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was not clearly paying attention to where he walked, and ended up bumping into another person -- a boy, about Jocen's age. Ayreon looked up and their eyes met. That was when he knew. This boy was his. He mumbled something about having to finish his chores and headed toward the barn. He did not see the confused look on Kiref's face, nor did he notice how the boy began to reach out as if to touch Ayreon. He did not see these things because all he could think about was pulling the boy into his embrace and keeping him safe from all harm, no matter what that harm might be.

Veesal left a week later, but Kiref remained in the guestroom. Ayreon knew this because every morning, as he left the kitchen, he looked up and Kiref stood in the window looking somewhat disheveled. Sometimes Ayreon stopped for a moment, pretending to study the weather while Kiref pulled off his nightshirt and pulled on his daily wear. He still could not shake the feeling that Kiref was the one he was supposed to be protecting, although he had yet to discover whom he needed protecting from. As he went about his daily chores, Ayreon thought on his situation. He had not been told to stay away from Kiref, but he had not been given much of an opportunity to spend time with him either. Maybe he should find a way to talk to the boy.

On the third night since Veesal left, Ayreon heard a strange noise from upstairs. Curious, he sat up and listened. The sound came again. It was coming from the floor just above, the one where Kiref slept. Ayreon did not realize he had reacted until his hand was on the doorknob of Kiref's room, where he paused and listened again. A strangled cry came from behind the door. Ayreon entered the room. Kiref was standing on the edge of the windowsill, clutching the shutters to keep from falling. Ayreon did not see any reason for the boy to be ready to jump, but that did not mean Kiref was not seeing a valid reason. Ayreon grabbed the boy by the waist and pulled him into the room and pressed their bodies together. Kiref made a soft noise then melted against Ayreon, who cooed nonsense at the boy as he maneuvered him toward the bed. Unable to gain release, Ayreon lay down with Kiref until just before dawn, when he snuck downstairs to find comfort in his blankets for the few moments before he had to get up and begin his day.

The days passed, as did the nights, and about every third night Ayreon found himself in Kiref's bedroom. Most nights he left as soon as Kiref was settled and sleeping quietly, but tonight felt different. He couldn’t explain why, but it did, so he paced arguing with himself concerning the stupidity of him staying in the room.

"Hum?"

"Nothing, I'm just talking to myself," Ayreon smiled and sat on the very edge of the bed. He had rarely talked to Kiref when he visited him at night and they shared only a few stolen words as their paths crossed as Ayreon did his chores, some backwards glances, and the simple caress of their fingertips touching as an item passed from one's hand to the other's hand. However, Ayreon felt strongly connected to Kiref, who obviously felt the same.

"Don't talk. Come lay with me instead. You keep the bad dreams away."

Alarms went off in Ayreon's mind. Thoughts of his father, brother, or Picek invading Kiref's mind, giving him visions, and causing him to try to harm himself hurt Ayreon. He wrapped his arms around Kiref and whispered quiet words, urging the boy to sleep. Just before dawn, Ayreon crept down the stairs and took up residence in his corner. He had just closed his eyes when he was kicked to get up and start his day.

All day long Ayreon felt prickly. He jumped at the slightest sound or peripheral movement. He had a lot of work to do in the barn, and was up in the loft when he heard voices in one of the stalls.

"I cannot do it Avard. I've tried, his mind is inaccessible."

"Isn't that the point of the exercise?"

When Ayreon had identified the speakers as his brother and one of the boys from a neighboring farm he held still and listened carefully.

"Yes, but every time I come close something comes between us."

"What could it be?"

"I don't know. Sometimes it feels like a fog, others an ocean; last night it felt different though, more like a wool blanket."

"Could it be your father attempting to make it difficult for you?"

"No, he is very angry with me that the boy has not had an accident yet."

"Why do they want him -- hurt?"

"I'm not sure. I was hoping to pick that information from his mind before his accident, but that just does not seem possible."

"Did you ever consider that maybe you should not have destroyed..."

"Shhhh, do not even speak on it. Had I not, I would not have seen you again."

"But Jocen..."

"You saw how he was when the red took Ayreon. Calib is headed toward white and Guery is headed toward a trade if he does not start paying better attention to his studies. I had to do it."

"We would have managed, Jocen. I would have managed. Next year I go. My father told my brothers and me today. He is sending all of us at one time. So, who knows where I'll be. Was this... life... worth just one more year with me?"

"It was worth even one more hour with you, Avard. One more time in your arms, one more time seeing your smile..."

Ayreon frowned at what he had heard as the noises below quieted to muffled moans of pleasure. Just who was he here to protect? and from whom?

Days and nights blurred together as Ayreon did his best to keep Kiref sane. It seemed to Ayreon that his father was a bit more on edge as well, but he did not realize how dangerous the situation had become until he caught a glimpse of Jocen in the bathhouse. His brother's back was horribly bruised with welts crisscrossing his shoulders.

"Jocen, what happened?"

His younger brother shrugged as he continued to wash, "It is nothing."

Ayreon frowned which caused Jocen to cringe slightly, "Who did this?"

"Father," Jocen admitted reluctantly.

"Why?"

"He fears I will fail."

"So he beats you?"

Jocen nodded, "So that I understand I need to try harder. I am trying, Ayreon, I do not know why I am failing. Even Picek managed his first test in a reasonable amount of time."

"What is this test?"

"I cannot say, Ayreon. Please don't ask."

"Does it involve Kiref?"

Jocen blanched slightly and turned his head. That was all the answer Ayreon needed. He stepped up closely behind his brother, taking the cloth from his hand. He dipped it in the cooling water and rinsed the worst of the wounds on his brother's backside, weaving a bit of healing into his touch. He had not been told he could not use his skills, but until now they really hadn't been needed. As he felt Jocen begin to relax, Ayreon kissed the nape of his neck, "Tell me, brother mine, does he try to beat the love out of you?"

Jocen shivered, but otherwise did not respond. Ayreon pressed him again, "The compassion? The desire to be loved?" Ayreon felt his brother's sob before he heard it and gathered Jocen in his arms, holding the slightly younger boy tightly as possible without re-injuring him.

"It's not right Ayreon, not right at all. I cannot do it. I do not want to do it!" Jocen said between sobs, "Calib hates me. He said so. He told me he knew what I was doing and he would stop it. But he can't know, no one can. Only father and Picek. If Calib knows then I must..." Jocen totally broke down making his words incomprehensible.

Ayreon soothed the young black rose. When Jocen had calmed down enough to listen and understand, Ayreon told him there were things in this life no man should have to compromise. That some things were worth fighting for, and should be fought for... when they went their separate ways, Ayreon knew what he had to do, and the thought of it turned his stomach sour. As he worked through his chores he wondered if Dieja was fully aware of what was going on, or if he had misread the situation totally and was over reacting.

Ayreon finished in time to wash and join the others at the evening meal. Once the meal had begun, the others talked quietly among themselves. Ayreon watched his father intently, but without malice. To do what he was certain he needed to do he would have to find every ounce of love and compassion in his soul and focus it properly. He looked at the faces of his younger brothers, bright and shining from a fresh scrubbing. Calib scowled every time he looked toward Jocen or Kiref, and often made a downright unpleasant face when Picek spoke. Guery seemed oblivious to it all, but Ayreon could feel a depth to Guery that caused him to look twice at his youngest brother. So intent was he on exploring his youngest brother that he missed the conversation until his sister, Karva, poked him in the side.

"Ow!"

"Pay attention please, Ayreon," his father reprimanded him. "A man came to visit me today about finding a boy to replace his apprentice. Word had reached him that you had returned home and might be looking for a new position. I told him you would be most interested. He allowed you tonight to say your goodbyes. Tomorrow you will be apprenticed," he raised his cup in a toast, "To Ayreon's good fortune!"

Other cups were raised around the table and each drank, wishing him well.

Ayreon looked stricken. He had to do this, tonight. His hands trembled at the thought.

"What's the matter Ayreon?" Kiref asked from across the table, "Don't you want to be apprenticed?"

Ayreon took a deep breath and looked at his father, "What is the trade?"

"Your new Master owns a fleet of sailing ships," Tivogu replied smoothly.

Ayreon could tell from the look in his face that his father was not telling him everything, but he turned his attention back to Kiref and smiled slightly, "I do not want to be just anyone's apprentice."

Kiref sighed, "At least some one wants you..." the young man looked down as he pulled apart some bread.

"Being wanted for the wrong reasons is worse than not being wanted at all, don't you think?" Ayreon asked him quietly, fully aware that all eyes at the table were now on him. He was not surprised with Kiref just shrugged his shoulders. Ayreon turned to his father, "I do not think I will be taking this apprenticeship."

"You have no choice, boy," his father growled.

"Yes, I do," Ayreon said quietly, pointedly looking at his younger siblings who sat looking at their brother wide-eyed as no one had ever stood up to their father before, "Do you really wish to discuss it at dinner?"

Tivogu stood up, "Dinner is over. Ayreon, I suggest you go out to the barn. Picek, you and Jocen have assignments. The rest of you help your mother clean up, then go to bed."

There was a general clamor to do as directed by everyone except Ayreon, who sat quietly to finish his meal, at least until someone took his plate from him. Then he stood and walked toward the door. Kiref stopped him.

"You don't have to do this for me, Ayreon. I'm not worth it."

Ayreon smiled at the despondent boy, "Yes, you are. So are they." Ayreon leaned in close and pressed his lips to Kiref's forehead, "Love is worth fighting for."

Ayreon walked into the barn not knowing what to expect. He knew he and his father would have some type of confrontation, and it turned his stomach sour just thinking about it.

"So you think you can defy me, boy?" Tivogu growled from the shadows as Ayreon approached.

"No sir. Nor do I think I have to follow your commands if they do not make sense," Ayreon stood his ground. He was not surprised by the attack when it came. Grounding himself as Dieja taught him he felt the energy wash over him, through him, and away from him leaving him unharmed. He opened his eyes and looked at Tivogu, who appeared to be shocked that he was still standing.

"How?"

"You know how, father. You taught me much more than you realize. You see," Ayreon held out his hand and a soft nimbus formed around it.

"I thought they hadn't trained you?" Tivogu snapped angrily.

"It wasn't a matter of training, it was more like learning how to put the pieces together to make it all work. Not so very hard at all, once I got the hang of it." Ayreon smiled at his father. "Why do you want to harm Kiref?"

Tivogu looked at his son, "What makes you think I want to harm Kiref?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's the nightmares he's been having. It could be the way he finds himself standing on his window ledge at the oddest times. Or maybe it's because I overheard your students discussing why their efforts may not be working on the hapless boy."

"What do you know of the war of the Roses? What did they teach you?"

Ayreon studied his father, and decided that answering him would not hurt, and it may give him the answers he needed to complete the task at hand.

"At the founding there were six orders, three of whom had colored roses as a symbol: white, red, and yellow. The rest had fields of color in black, green, and blue. Within the first half of history, blue and green faded into oblivion. Then black rose up and swallowed the yellow rose, changing its field of black to take on the form of the rose. Thus began the War of the Roses. Most people think the war is ended, but the White and Red aren't so certain because over the years fewer and fewer boys have tested into the Red and White Rose, but Black seems to be growing strong."

Tivogu nodded, "Red and White have banded together to destroy the Black, but we have managed to grow while they stagnate. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

Ayreon shook his head, but Tivogu did not really wait for an answer, instead plowing on with his explanation.

"Boys are malleable. If they are taken young enough they can be molded somewhat. How you turned to red I will never understand, and if I had known it, you would have gone to another Master's home for fostering, not unlike Kiref. While you were there you would have been enlightened about many things and if you were still found... wanting... you might have met an accident that would change your suitability."

"You murder them?" Ayreon asked with disbelief.

"Murder is such a strong word..." Tivogu said as he grinned at his son, "it's more like culling the herd. Although that is never the first choice. Boys destined for the White are the easiest to subvert if it's done early enough. Make them believe they are unsuitable due to past acts and they never pass the tests. Reds however..." Tivogu shook his head, "Reds are so forgiving of so many things, which is why I'm surprised they threw you out. What did you do, Ayreon that they found you unsuitable?"

"I am my Father's son," Ayreon admitted with a shrug and half a smile, then grew serious again, "Kiref and my brothers are leaving."

Tivogu laughed. When he finished he looked at Ayreon with pity in his eyes, "And where do you think you would go?"

The questions hung between them for a moment then Ayreon squared his shoulders and replied, "Away from you. Everyone would know that you failed."

Ayreon was completely unprepared for the screaming bundle of rage that dove across the space between father and son. Tivogu grasped Ayreon's neck, attempting to choke him into submission. Spittle splattered across Ayreon's face as his father raged, shouting, "I do not fail!" over and over again. Once the shock wore off, Ayreon grasped his father and pulled the raging madman into a hug. He submitted to his inner nature and loved Tivogu unconditionally. Tivogu never saw the red nimbus that surrounded the two of them; he never raised his eyebrows to question what was happening. Instead he withered like a shadow exposed to the sun, fading into nothingness, leaving Ayreon passed out on the barn floor.

Leagues away, Dieja smiled as he felt his young rose bloom. Then he went down the hall to prepare Ayreon's bedchamber, for he knew his love would be coming home.

The End

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