You are riding your black horse Brotharare down the stony path with your friends, their horse much further ahead than yours.
The day is warm and fragrant, and there is a mixture of beautiful color in front of you. The fields of the wild flowers shine a bright yellow, almost as if they are glowing. They are so bright.
"As are you," Hilaz, your younger brother says to you, dropping back on his horse Galway.
He has been reading your thoughts again.
"Spare me, child, with your petty words. Save them for your whores in the village," you spit out, "And try to stay in your own head as well."
He smiles.
"Go," he says. "You are obviously not happy here. Leave now, if it suits you."
You sigh.
"It suits me perfectly. But I cannot leave. I have been told to wait by the Higher Being. He knows what is best for me. I must be patient."
Hilaz snorts and rolls his eyes. "The day when you are patient will never come. Go now."
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