Bra-Neche sat in his room, staring out the window, although he was supposed to be studying.  There was a sharp rap on his door, and then his Uncle Deven entered.

“Rumor has it there is a fifth Chosen.”

“Caed said there were only four last night, Uncle.”

“You asked?”

Bra-Neche nodded.

“Why?”

“I was curious.”

“Bra-Neche, this is serious.”

“Yes it is, Uncle, the Imperial Guards are getting four boys tomorrow who have no idea what they are getting into.  Did you ask them if they wanted to be Chosen?”

“It is an honor!” Deven growled and stormed out of the room.

Bra-Neche stared out the window for a while longer, gathered a few things then headed for the stables.  Once there, he closed his eyes, “Come to me.”