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Journal of Kalen Avanir
TE 6047, Orhan 5, day 20
Prevan, along a tributary of the Ryanna River
On our return from the Northern Frontier the weather turned mild, so Jad and I decided to delay our arrival at Leathes a few days – despite the dire warnings of the barkeep in Echolshyre.
I mentioned that I would like to visit a remote school on my father’s lands, a certain ‘Gryphon College.’ Jad, though not an enthusiastic scholar, was nevertheless happy to accept any detour that might delay a resumption of the dull routine of our home.
According to the map I had copied from the library at Leathes, the way to this college was a path veering off the Hawk Road some fifteen leagues from the Steppe Highway. So, after spending the night of the 17th at the town of Cherbourg at the crossroads (in an inn called the Broken Arrow, a favorite of Jad’s), we made good time the first day westward. We spent the next night in a guesthouse in the village of Brayden Notch. The quarters were more modest, but still better than the hard cold ground. And we were in my father’s lands now, an artificial distinction to be sure, yet I breathed easier inside the borders of Prevan Duchy.
It was mid-afternoon when we came upon a northerly branch off the road that seemed to be the way I was seeking. Unlike the rough farm trails that frequently branched off the paved Hawk Road, this one showed some measure of maintenance. And a stone pillar at the side, though without marking, did suggest that this was more than a cow path.
As the pale sun descended over our left shoulders, we rode through a landscape of bare trees, grey-brown fields and scattered farmhouses. Our path climbed steadily, up into a region the map had labeled the Dunny Hills. Fortunately there was little wind, and the air seemed well above freezing. Still, even with the sun it was bleak weather for travel, and I found myself wishing for a comfortable chair and a warm fireplace.
Not even a league north of the Hawk Road, we came upon a wide stream crossing the path. Though swift, it was no more than fifty paces wide and appeared to be a shallow ford, so we urged our horses into the clear water.
Jad and Barron reached the far side without incident, but just a few feet from the shore, Sorris stopped and could not be budged. Finally I slid off his back, landing almost knee-deep in the icy water. I was about to lead my mount to shore, trying to ignore the freezing water seeping into my boots and soaking my breeches, when a glint of light on the streambed caught my eye. Something reflecting the late afternoon sun, I thought, then realized that the angle was wrong. As I leaned closer I saw something that seemed to be giving off its own light, like a bright candle flame but under water! I reached in and my fingers closed around a small round object. It was too perfectly smooth and spherical to be a river-stone; it was a made thing. As I pulled it from the water I saw that the orb was attached to a fine golden chain. When I opened my hand, I saw a sphere of crystal with a delicate object embedded in its heart. This object was a stylized bird with wings upraised, studded with red and amber jewels. It was a phoenix, symbol of the Rhakhaan Empire! Not only was the workmanship remarkable for its beauty and subtlety, the crystal was unscratched. I deduced that this must be an enchanted device of some sort – not that I had much experience with such things. Resolving to have the curious item appraised later, I tucked it into the inside pocket of my tunic and continued across the ford…
Chapter Three: The College
 Beyond the ford the land rose steadily, the little-used road leading Jad and Kalen along a number of rustic farms and pastures, then as the land grew more uneven, towards a thickening forest. Clouds moved in as the sun set, and though it did not feel like rain – or snow -- was imminent, the heavy cotton-grey sky made twilight come early.
Kalen hoped to reach the college before nightfall and ask for lodging for the night. If they arrived after dark it might be more difficult to be allowed entry – if indeed this place existed. As they entered the looming forest, he considered going back to the last farm and asking to sleep in their barn that night… then dismissed it. Surely they could get a room and a real bed in this college, he assured himself.
The road narrowed such that they had to travel single-file. It was quite overgrown and out of repair, seemingly more like an animal path than a road traveled by humans. Firs, oaks, and elms crowded the way on either side. Dry leaves covered the path and the ground all around, making it even more difficult to determine their way.
The night fell fast upon the travelers, and with the darkness, both their horses developed a sudden reluctance to move forward.
“Come on, boy.” Jad flicked the reins when his stallion ground to a halt. Barron shifted uneasily but would not move ahead.
“Sorris won’t go either.” Kalen called from behind. “Maybe we can lead them.”
“Something strange here. Gives me the chills.” Jad shivered, then slid off his horse.
“I feel it too,” Kalen agreed as he dismounted. He patted Sorris gently as he moved up, and then rubbed his nose. “What is it, boy? Place got you spooked?”
The animal nickered and stamped, trying to edge back.
“Barron is the same, nervous, but I think I can lead him.” Jad said. He took the reins, and with a steady pull managed to get his horse to keep going.
After they had gone a few furlongs down the road, he called back, “Kalen? Does it seem awfully... dark?”
“You too?” Kalen had noticed that it was more difficult than usual seeing in this night, but assumed that his full-blooded Elf cousin was not having similar trouble. While Jad’s night-sight was better than Kalen’s, they were both normally able to see fairly well by starlight. Of course they didn’t even have that under this heavy cloud cover.
“I can barely make out the next few feet. Maybe we should make camp... light a fire.” Jad ventured unenthusiastically.
Kalen shared his cousin’s ambivalence. As if the dark wasn’t bad enough, a fog seemed to be rising from the nearby river, and it carried a damp chill into the air. The place had an unwelcoming feel to it that made it more difficult to proceed with every step. Finally he dug a lamp out of the saddlebags, lit it and brought it to Jad. “You lead, you can see better, I’m sure. It can’t be much further.” He muttered
“Assuming the map is right.” Jad, always the optimist.
The total dark gave way to a grey wall of fog illuminated by the lamp. Stumbling down the path, tugging their horses every step of the way, the boys pressed on. Tree-trunks appeared like phantoms in the weird luminous haze as Jad swung the lantern back and forth trying to find the path.
“Hey, did you hear that?” Jad and Barron stopped so abruptly that Kalen and Sorris almost ran into them.
“What now?” The Lord allowed annoyance to color his voice.
“Something flew over us. Something big.” Jad said ominously.
“Big, as in...an owl?”
“No, Kalen, it was very big. Didn’t you see the leaves on the ground move? I felt the wind from it, heard the wings, but it seemed... wrong... somehow.”
“No, I didn’t see.” Kalen sighed.
“It’s gone now.” Jad started forward again, head bowed.
They continued ascending for some time, and Kalen figured they were well into the hills, when the path ahead cut through a narrow rocky cleft that even he could see. His feeling of unease became almost unbearable: this seemed like a perfect spot for an ambush. “Jad... be careful.” He half-whispered.
“Yes, m’Lord.” His cousin’s formality was disturbing. Kalen heard Jad loosen his sword, so he did the same. Little though my sword fighting skills would help, he thought ruefully. Jad has already far outpaced me. Kalen began to wish they had never taken this turn, never even left his father’s manor. This was foolish. If anything happened to Jad…
The resistance continued, almost like a physical force holding him back. Just when Kalen didn’t think he could take another step, he felt a tingling against his chest... something in his tunic pocket!? He fumbled inside—and felt the bauble he had found earlier. But it was almost hot to the touch! He drew it out, realizing as he did that not only was it warm, but it was giving off a golden radiance. As he gazed into the crystal sphere, the jeweled Phoenix inside glowed brighter, more brilliant than the lamp Jad held.
“Kalen, what—” Jad turned around, struck momentarily silent upon seeing the light in his cousin’s hand. “What is that!?”
“The Phoenix.” Kalen smiled. “I found this in the river a few miles back. It must be enchanted.” He held it aloft by the chain and it glowed even brighter as it spun slowly. It glowed with the light of ten lamps now, illuminating sheer stone walls rising on either side of the trail.
“Sorcery.” Jad snorted, trying to conceal his awe with a tone of derision.
“Light is light. Let’s move on.” Kalen felt inexplicably reassured by this little glowing bauble, and even the horses seemed less intractable.
A few paces more between the walls of rock and they suddenly emerged from the cleft. The Phoenix dimmed then to a barely perceptible glimmer, but the way ahead seemed clear nevertheless: the fog and the oppressive darkness were left behind. Gently descending, the path grew wider. The trees thinned out, and stones marked the road. The horses seemed eager to proceed, so the boys mounted up and rode on, now side-by-side on the well-tended path.
They had gone less than a mile further when the trees ended and they spotted their destination. Across a wide meadow and next to a small river it stood, a small cluster of stone buildings. It was definitely a fortified place, by the look of it, with an enclosing wall and a cleared area beyond the actual structure. But the yellow lights glimmering from many windows were nevertheless a welcoming sight.
“By the Lords.” Jad breathed. “This has always been here, two days’ ride from your father’s castle?’
“From what I have read, it has been here since long before Prevan itself. It was supposedly built before the Wars of Dominion.”
“But that is tens of centuries! No building lasts that long.”
“No particular building perhaps... unless enchanted. Or maybe the structure itself has been rebuilt. But the place -- the college -- it has been here that long.”
“Yet it is not under your father’s dominion?”
“I’m not sure. It is within his territory, so I guess it would be, unless it had some special grant from the Emperor. My father never mentioned it.”
“Not that you and your father talk that much!” Jad hit a tender spot, knew it and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, Kalen. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s not your fault, don’t be sorry.” Kalen rushed to assure his cousin. No one was more sensitive than Kalen to the fact that Duke Elrad had become withdrawn from family life since the death of his first son. But in a way Kalen was relieved. He knew he could never be like his older half brother, the son Elrad wanted: a warrior, an heir to a duchy. Kalen was not so athletically gifted. A scholar and a musician, his tutors declared, perhaps even a user of the elusive Essence. None of these things appealed to a Duke needing a strong heir in a brutal empire. Indeed, Jad would have proven a much better son, Kalen thought ruefully.
As they approached the gate to the compound, Kalen noted the massive stone Gryphons crouching atop the pillars on either side of the entrance. While clearly the same animal -- a lion’s body with wings and head of an eagle – they were different somehow from the creatures depicted on the Warders far to the north. And the stone of their making was a deep green-grey, smooth and beautiful.
While they were still a stone’s-throw away from the gate, the doors swung open on silent hinges. No doorwards could be seen, but standing in the middle of the path just inside were three young men, all clad in simple robes. One stepped forward and bowed. Kalen could see then that he was not a youth, but an Elf, possibly of the Erlini, the Wood-elves. “Greetings Lord Kalen Avanir, Master Jad Hurok. I am Larlieg, Prefect of Nomar Tyl. Welcome to Gryphon College. You have been expected.”
“How… how did you –” Kalen stammered.
“Your approach was observed. And of course we make it our business to be familiar with the family of our Duke.”
Kalen thought he detected a tinge of sarcasm in Larlieg’s voice as he referred to ‘his Duke.’ But while the leader had been speaking, the other two – also Erlini – approached them and took hold of the horses’ reins. Barron and Sorrel both responded by nuzzling them like old friends.
“We will take good care of your horses while you are here as our guests.” Larieg assured them. “Now, your journey must have been tiring, please follow me. We have rooms prepared for you. Not as fine as the palace at Leathes, but hopefully more comfortable than a farmer’s barn.”
Again Kalen felt that Larieg was gently mocking him. Something about the crooked smile and raised eyebrows that seemed to punctuate every sentence. And how did they know that he and Jad were approaching? Some sort of magical warning perhaps? Kalen had heard of such things, enchanted warders. But Larieg had also known their identities, apparently long before they had neared the college gates. Kalen began to feel that he had gotten in over his head here. He only hoped that the people who ruled this place meant them no harm.
At least Barron and Sorris seemed at ease. After Kalen and Jad dismounted, the horses nickered happily, and allowed themselves to be led away, tails swinging as they walked. Meanwhile, Larieg led Kalen and Jad to the main entrance, where massive carved wood doors swung open at their approach. Kalen noticed that the place was made of the same green-grey stone as the gate pillars. It was like granite, with many flecks of subtle color. He also took note of the way the blocks were fitted together with great skill, some even interlocking in a fashion he had seen before only once… where had it been? Of course! At the town of Gryphonburgh. The ancient bridge there was of the same stone, and crafted with the same skill. There must be a connection.
A grand staircase dominated the foyer inside. But Larieg took them another way, turning left and going through a side door, along a narrow corridor, and up a narrow, turning stairway. “This is the most efficient route to the guest quarters,” he explained. They passed one level, then turned left, walked back down the same hall but two stories above their previous trek, then their host opened another door.
The room beyond, while not palatial, was better lodging than any but the best city inn could provide. It was spacious and airy, with a bay window looking west. Tapestries covered the exterior stone wall, and the interior walls were of dark paneled wood. A fire blazed on the hearth, there was a huge canopied bed, and sweet-smelling steam rose from a tub in the corner.
“A bath!” Jad sighed happily, staggering comically into the room.
“Your saddlebags will be brought up shortly. I hope these quarters are adequate.”
Kalen turned in time to catch Larieg’s smirk. “They are more than adequate. My thanks to you and…?”
“Zaris is Chancellor of our school. She looks forward to meeting you on the morrow. If you have need of anything in the meantime, please ring.” He indicated a bell-pull in the corner.
“Our thanks again.” Kalen bowed.
“It is our genuine pleasure to have you as our guests.” Larieg returned the bow as he stepped out of the room and closed the door. This time Kalen detected no sarcasm.
Jad was already tearing off his clothes. “A real bath! Come on, Kalen, let’s wash while the water is hot!”
The young lord had to admit that the lure of a hot bath was irresistible. He half-fell into a chair, pulled off his boots, then managed to get the rest of his soiled garments off on the way to the bathtub.
Jad, already naked and standing by the great steaming urn, took his cousin’s arm. “The water’s perfect, come on.”
They stepped in together. “Ahh!” Jad’s idea of ‘perfect’ was a bit hot for Kalen’s taste.
“Oh come on, it’ll be cold before you know it.” Jad held his cousin’s shoulders, not allowing him to back out.
Kalen shivered, but he had to admit the hot water felt good. They eased down together into the tub, the water rising around them as they settled in.
“So eager to get me in the tub, I’m beginning to wonder if you do think I stink like the mortals do!” Kalen muttered.
“No, my lord, you do not smell.” Jad assured him with a quick hug. “But I think there is nothing better than relaxing in a hot bath with my cousin after a long day on the road. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No, not at all.” Kalen said softly and smiled to himself.
As was typical for them, Jad was behind straddling Kalen, to wash him first. “Hmm, I could get used to this place.” Jad said half to himself as he shuffled through objects on a nearby table. “Sponge, bone combs, soaps… this smells nice! Scented oils… something in a bottle with a label that says ‘for the hair.’ Shall I try it?”
“Only if I can try it on you!” Kalen exclaimed, but Jad was already splashing water on his cousin’s brown, tangled mop. The Marquess surrendered to Jad’s massaging fingers without a fight.
Zaris stood in the great bay window of her office and stared out into the darkness, her left hand closed loosely around the bauble hanging around her neck. Though a Loari Elf and so immortal, tonight she felt old… tired. She knew in her bones that something was coming… something to make the war between Frelik the pretender and the rightful King of Rhakhaan seem like children playing with toy soldiers. She hadn’t dared to even go to the Ilarsír chamber in how long? A year? Ten years? A hundred? When you have lived for over seventy centuries, the passage of years is like the flow of days, she mused.
And yet here she was, using the last legacy of a realm of men to protect this college, a tiny refuge against the chaos that seemed to be everywhere. Zaris found herself more isolated, less willing to trust, with every passing season. They were alone here, she sometimes felt. And she wanted to believe that, no matter what else happened in the wider world, she could use the ancient tools at her disposal to protect this one tiny refuge.
But she knew better. Zaris had survived the Wars of Dominion. Places like her College would have been surrounded and overwhelmed by evil forces if they had not had the aid of the Loremasters and others… even the Lords of Orhan.
But that was a long age ago. Were the Loremasters still to be trusted? They seemed to be mired in the inertia borne of bureaucracy. Could the Lords even be counted on?
Zaris placed her palm over her midsection almost reflexively in the woman’s curtsey to Iloura, goddess of fertility and living things. Indeed, as an Animist, every day Zaris channeled powers from that Lady of Orhan. But she had not felt the true touch of her goddess-patron in a long age. Was Iloura still there? Did she care about what happened to an old Elf in a small northern continent? Zaris’ hand raised again to finger the cool crystal orb hanging around her neck. It was the twin to the sphere that Kalen had -- unbeknownst to her -- found that very day, except inside the one Zaris wore was imprisoned a tiny Gryphon. Should the gods fail us, we still have the tools our ancestors made. She thought to herself.
There was a quiet knock at the door.
“Enter!” She barked more harshly than she meant to.
Larieg slipped in and closed the door behind him. “Our guests are settled, Chancellor.”
“Indeed.” She turned to face the prefect who was also one of her favorite students. “And what did you think of the heir to Prevan and his squire? Speak plainly!”
A smile played briefly across Larieg’s face, then fled. “Young. Naive. Clumsy.” He paused, at a loss for words for a moment, then he said more softly, “Something hidden. Potential. Strength?”
Zaris released the pendant and swept to her desk. The Gryphon inside the crystal globe around her neck glimmered in the candlelight. “Well said, but don’t let that arrogance get the better of you, Larieg! See to our guests’ needs, but I would like to meet with them at the third chime of the morning quintar. And… be extra vigilant on patrols tonight. I sense… something watching us.”
“Yes, chancellor.” The student bowed and departed.
A moment later, a tall, lean figure separated himself from the shadows in the corner of Zaris’ office.
“Ah, Loremaster Terisonen.” Zaris smiled without looking towards the tall Elf. She sat behind her massive theg-wood desk and began shuffling through a pile of scrolls. “What brings you to my humble school… uninvited into my private office as usual?”
“I seem to recall you telling me that I could drop in anytime.”
“Remind me not to bother using sarcasm on you again. Too subtle.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand then uncoiled a scroll across her desk.
“To answer your question, a couple of things, actually.” Randae settled into a chair near the fireplace, ignoring the Chancellor’s verbal barb. “How long have we known each other, Zaris?” He asked, staring into the flames.
The Animist paused and looked up. She smiled again, remembering what a difficult pupil Randae was for his masters. Handsome and talented, Randae had also been impetuous and more than a little arrogant. He was a charmer – even without employing his Bardic enchantments -- and he knew it. Randae had broken more than his share of young ladies’ hearts over the years. He'd also broken or bent more than a few rules of the Loremaster Code.
But, he had matured into a responsible Loremaster, perhaps taking on too much responsibility in fact. Though he was an immortal Iylar Elf, Zaris had noticed a few worry lines begin to appear on his face when he frowned. “A few hundred years, I suppose. Since you were a Journeyman.”
“Long enough for you to trust me?” He twisted around suddenly to stare at her with those unnerving hazel eyes.
“I trust you, as far as that goes.” She met his gaze, then shrugged with her eyebrows and went back to her scrolls. “Your heart is true – more or less – and you are dedicated to goals which we share. Otherwise I wouldn’t allow you to randomly teleport yourself into my office. But beyond that… we have talked about the Loremasters before. I do not always agree with the constraints your fraternity places upon its members. And it is your duty to report to your superiors.”
“And you know that I agree with you, as you well know I don’t always report every little detail. My masters are far too busy.” Randae smirked to himself, then stood suddenly and paced to the window. “But I also understand why they have these rules. That pendant you wear should remind you. We tried to control the passions of men before and it ended with the total destruction of Zor.”
“Good intentions, poor execution…” Zaris muttered.
“You know what the Myri say? ‘The gate to Charon is opened with good intentions.’”
“Ahh… wisdom from your Tanaran sheepherders.” Zaris nodded, her sarcasm evident. “Do they even know what Charon is?”
“We depend too much on the old things.” Randae hissed the last word. “Those simple herders are some of the finest folk I have ever met. True, they will never be great Astrologers or Seers, most of them, but nor will they be seduced by…” he spun towards the desk and leaned close to the Elven Animist. “…the Priests of the Iron Wind.”
Zaris did recoil then, but quickly regained her composure. “So. You have sensed them too.”
Randae straightened and turned away again. “Yes, they seem to have become very active again recently, which concerns me.”
“But it does not concern the Loremaster Council?” Zaris baited.
“Not as much a I think it should.” Randae admitted. “I fear that the Iron Wind -- and the ancient artifacts of Tethior -- have yet a part to play in the fate of Jaiman. But that is not even the primary reason for my visit.”
“And what is, Master Terisonen? The hour grows late and I have an early appointment.”
“Ah, yes, with the young Marquess of Endar and his intriguing cousin.” Randae gave Zaris a sidelong smile. “What interests you about a couple of mixed-breed boys?”
“There is something about them, both of them, you know it as well as I do. They came here on their on initiative, and to be truthful, I made it rather difficult for them to pass the Dunwood forest. I was surprised they were able to penetrate the barriers I set up.”
“You are right about them being surprising.” Randae mused. “Something about them defies even my analysis spells. And their ancestry is quite intriguing.”
"If you have some special knowledge of them, I would appreciate it if you would share!” Zaris snapped. Again she regretted her sharp tone. Why was she on edge? The Loremaster, though he could sometimes be annoying, never made her feel anxious as she did now.
Randae only gave her a sympathetic look, however. “Vexed you as well, have they?” Then he slumped in the chair by the fire again. “I will tell you what I know, though that is not a great deal. Kalen’s father, the Duke, while a decent enough mortal, is of no great interest. The Iylar sisters, who are the boys’ mothers, have a rather muddy past, though apparently they lived for many years on the isle of Veriadar.”
“That was part of the Elven-realm of Urulan, was it not?”
“Yes, and it survived the fall of that kingdom, though it declined into a rather rustic land, mostly Erlin Elves I believe. At any rate, apparently the squire’s mother became pregnant there under circumstances the details of which I have not been able to discover, and the sisters subsequently fled Veriadar for Rhakhaan.”
“How is that possible? The squire is younger than the noble cousin.”
“Just so. It is a mystery. My sources tell me that the pregnant sister was in some sort of enchanted sleep-state for many years. Again, the details are sketchy. But I have sensed the Essaence, and I know you have as well, or you would not have allowed them to come here.”
“And you are hoping that I can glean more information from them?” Zaris templed her fingers.
“Well, it is fortuitous that they happened to come here. I would appreciate any information you might learn.”
“And tell me, how did you come to take an interest in these two?”
“One of my students encountered them up north near the old Zor border. He perceived their… special… nature. He also thinks that forces less kindly inclined may have noticed them.” Randae finished darkly.
“I wonder what motivated them to come here?” Zaris mused.
“The hand of Tethior is at work, I perceive. Kalen is the heir to a duchy of Rhakhaan. I doubt that anyone alive fully understands the full nature and intelligence of the items Tethior and Andraax made when they tried to tame Jaiman.”
Zaris didn’t answer, but she knew what Randae meant. In all her long life, she had never dealt with artifacts that had such a strange will of their own as those created by the artificer Tethior. Sometimes she had the strangest feeling that her own Gryphon pendant was suggesting things, or encouraging her to choose one action over another. But, only the helms worn by the kings of the six realms were supposedly intended to moderate their wearer’s actions. Nowhere in the texts had Tethior said anything about imbuing the pendants or swords with a will or an intelligence.
“But that is still not the main reason I have come tonight.” Randae interrupted her mental digression. “You have one of the Master Ilarsíri here, do you not?”
Zaris gave the Loremaster a hard look. “What makes you think such a thing?”
“Just a guess. And some judicious use of one of the lesser orbs.”
“‘Judicious’! I’m not sure if that is possible! The orbs are dangerous, especially the lesser ones. If someone of greater skill and power is using one of the master stones, they might be perceive you, even know your thoughts!”
“I know. That is probably why the Loremaster High Council has forbidden use of our Master Ilarsír.”
“Prudent.” Zaris rose with an armload of scrolls and gently placed them in a rack.
“I fear that it is getting a bit late for prudence.” Randae drummed his fingers on the chair arm.
“Late? Why do you say it is late? It is true that the servants of the Iron Wind are moving again, but it’s not the first time. You speak as if there is something even greater amiss, something warranting desperate measures.”
“I don’t know for sure…” Randae said slowly. “But I suspect that something truly terrible is coming. I also think that the Council knows about it but is unwilling -- or afraid -- to act.”
“And you think these boys have something to do with it?” Zaris’ voice held a tinge of derision, but inside she felt only dread. Randae had the same feeling she did, that something catastrophic was looming.
“I’ve learned to trust my intuition.” Randae stood and smoothed his hands over his black silk doublet, then nodded to the Chancellor with a grin. “And now, I sense that I have about worn out my welcome.”
“Have a good evening, Loremaster Terisonen. I will let you know if I discover anything of interest.” Zaris gave a slight nod in return.
Randae placed two fingers lightly on a silvery amulet hanging around his neck. A bluish haze emerged from the item, and in a few seconds it enveloped the Loremaster. The glowing shape became opaque then began to shrink and brighten. A moment later it was a blinding point of light, then was gone, taking Randae with it.
“You’d think he could just blink out like people normally teleport.” Zaris muttered as she straightened the papers on her desk. She could not put off a visit to the Master Seeing stone much longer.
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