That night, Hyran went to bed, but the debate went on in his mind. All the ways that he looked at the situation led to but one conclusion: The Church of the Great Master had a unique position to influence the direction of the King’s policy. True, it set a dangerous precedent. It was also true that there was no guarantee that the King didn’t have good reasons (whatever could they be?!). Furthermore, there was no reason to think that lives were in danger. It was a simple infringement of the freedom of the light Vle.
Hyran gave up on sleep and got up. With a wave, he lit his glowworm lamp, and put on his shoes. It was dead quiet, and opening his door shattered that silence. Nevertheless, it did not seem to wake anyone, so he slipped out. Carefully, he closed his door again, and walked on down the hall. Soon, he was outside, in the clear, cool air. He breathed deeply, and with his glowworms providing light, he walked on down to town.
It was still a half hour until sunrise when he arrived, but Vle were already moving around. Bakers slaved away making the day’s fresh bread, and other shopkeepers arrived to set up shop for the day. There was not a single light face there. He wandered the town, counting houses that had the locks thrown— a sure sign that the owner was gone. Apparently, the light Vle had gone; on their own, or by force, Hyran didn’t yet know.
The sky above brightened to a dark blue, and his glowworms were no longer necessary. He chose a baker’s shop, and ordered a small pastry to break his fast.
“Brother! What are you doing here, out of season?” asked the baker.
“I heard the news about the proclamation. I came to see for myself,” replied Hyran.
“Well, it’s been good for business, for me, at least. Most of the bakers in this town were light, so now I have more customers. But there were fewer light Vle in the chemist business, so they’re suffering from loss of customers.”
Hyran nodded. “What about daily life? I mean, outside of business?”
“Well, parties aren’t nearly as much fun. There aren’t as many people, of course, and we’re still kinda too depressed to celebrate.”
“I can understand that. What about the kids?”
“Well, it depends. A lot of them had light friends, and some miss having the more talented athletes on their teams. There were those who just happened to have only dark friends, and they don’t seem too affected. But the toughest are the ones in mixed families.”
Hyran nodded again.
“So, would you like anything to eat this morning?”
“Well, I would, but I have no money—”
“No matter. I can spare one or two. It’s nice to have one of you guys care about what’s going on. I mean, I know it’s against your vows, but I knida think that oughta be changing now. You’re losing touch.”
Hyran didn’t reply to that, but asked, “Could I possibly have that jelly-filled one?”
“Certainly.” The baker took it from its box and handed it to the monk. Then, the shop began to fill up with customers, and the baker had to get back to work.
Amid a few looks of surprise, Hyran finished his pastry, waved to the baker, and headed out. The town was moving again, but it seemed very dead compared to Deschule week. Though that was somewhat to be expected, it seemed as though a disaster had ocurred.
Hyran realized that that was exactly right— a disaster had ocurred, right under the collective nose of the monastery. Had it been a gale-force wind, or a fire, the monks would not have hesitated to give whatever aid they could. But this was the result of politics, and therefore not technically a disaster.
Perhaps their place in society ought to change, indeed.
Hyran glanced at the Vle coming and going, wondering if he’d catch a glimpse of Mecora or Caile. He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t, but he did notice the rather glum look on the faces he saw. Even the older children showed it.
Faintly above the mumble of the townsfolk, Hyran heard the bell at the monastery ringing, calling the monks to their daily dedication. It was time to return, so he took off running. As he ran, he heard the sound of a number of hoofbeats below. He did not spare the time to look, lest he be later than he already was.
Breathlessly, he slipped into line. “Good morning, brothers,” he said between gasps. He had gotten out of shape, sitting so long behind that desk! Perhaps he needed to take up exercise. Wouldn’t that get his brothers’ attention!
Mentally, he calmed his breathing, and the procession moved in, chanting their songs as always. However, he could hear the sound of heavy footsteps, and those behind him stopped singing. Apparently, though, everything was okay, because the service went on as normal.
It was only when they filed out again, that they found out what was going on. A troop of soldiers was at the monastery, in a place thought inviolable by the outside. Certainly everyone knew that it was forbidden to be on the platform without express consent of the abbot or a higher authority. Who had authorized this?
One soldier stood on a bench, and assumed a commanding pose. “By the order of King Lajot the twenty-fourth, I hereby command all light Vle, that is, all those who trace ancestry to the island of Kamilea, to take up their belongings and come to the Light Vle’ Camp. You will have one hour to comply.” Then, he stepped back off the bench.
There was confusion and then compliance. As odd as the situation was, who would dare harm a monk? Hyran watched the dark population move to the copying room, while the light population moved to their cells. Valans passed, not seeing Hyran.
“Brother Valans!” he called.
Valans stopped, and came over. “I should have known it would happen this way. Who knows, maybe it was meant to be.”
“Perhaps. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I hope I can walk that far.”
“You’ll make it.”
“Well, I’d better go. I only have an hour.”
“Yeah. Nice getting to know you.”
“It was, it was.” And then, because it was just getting too awkward to say anything more, Valans joined the cell-ward stream.

Hyran just stood watching the activity. The hour went quickly, as some monks were ready early and were herded down. Valans waved sadly as he walked down the stairs. Among the last to go was a very shocked-looking Allega.
Allega! It hadn’t seemed possible that such a distiguished old man could ever leave. Allega, gone! Who was he to talk to, now? Who else could possibly understand, let him ruminate his way around to an acceptable answer?
Finally, everyone was gone, leaving just him and a few older monks out on the platform. Hyran turned, and saw the abbot out on his balcony, impassive as ever. He noticed Hyran’s gaze, and left the balcony.

That evening, he stood at the railing, meditating some more on the events of the day. Valans, gone after only one day. Allega, gone after many decades. And all of it possible only with the express consent of someone powerful within the church.
“Worried for our new brother?”
Hyran hadn’t been aware that anyone was there, but the abbot himself now stood at his side. “Yes, Father, and everyone else.”
“I can tell. It’s in your aura.”
“Is there a problem with that?”
The abbot looked up at him. “You tell me, Son.”
“You probably want me to say, there is, because The Great Master protects those who serve him.”
“You don’t seem sure of it.”
“No, I don’t. I’m not sure why, but all of this... It seems like... Like some sort of mistake.”
“Well, it is, on the King’s part. He’ll learn soon enough.”
“How?”
“Well, I don’t know. He just will.”
“We could tell him.”
“Now, Hyran, you know the rules.”
“Yes, but I’m just not convinced they apply in this case.”
“Rules exist for a reason, especially ones given by the Great Master Himself.”
“Of course.”
“Keep meditating. The answer will come.” The abbot walked away as silently as he had come.
So, Hyran did continue, so deeply that he did not notice his second visitor at first, even when she tugged on his sleeve.
He came to and looked down. It was dark, and he could barely see the young face looking up at him. “Hyran?”
“Mecora? What are you doing here?” In the face of all that had happened, he found it difficult to be mad at her for being on the platform without permission. (The abbot never granted such permission, except to neophytes, and especially not to girls.)
“I had to come. Life is so horrible now.”
“You haven’t gotten over your grief yet.”
“How am I supposed to, without any friends?!”
“There aren’t any new friends you can make?”
“No.” Hyran suspected that it was the memory of her friends in the way. “Well, you’ll make some soon. Just wait.”
“But, I don’t want to wait. I want them back now! I almost wish I could just go and bring them back.”
“They’ll be back someday.”
“They’d better be.”
They stood in silence a moment, until Hyran could hear a soft sobbing. Hyran put his hand on her far shoulder, prompting her to put her arms around him. It surprised him, but he didn’t flinch. If he could add some needed comfort, he would provide it. The problem was, it could only be this once.
Finally, he was getting sleepy, and he didn’t want her to fall asleep standing there. “Mecora, are you still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Can you make it home?”
“Yeah.” She let go, and rubbed her eyes.
“You’d better take some glowworms.” Hyran stood on a bench and took the jar from the top of the lamp post. This he gave to her. “Consider it a gift.”
“Won’t someone wonder?”
“It’s rather windy tonight, isn’t it?”
“No,” she began, but then she understood. “Thanks!”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”