Page 253 of The Dryad Storm

They draw back from each other, and Or’myr turns and drops to one knee to hug young Effrey who promptly bursts into tears, clutching at him.

“I thought youdied!” Effrey chokes out.

Tears sting Or’myr’s eyes as he hugs his gentle, bespectacled geo-apprentice close. He draws back, smiling. “You think I’m so easy to kill?”

Lips trembling, Effrey shakes his head and messily swipes away his tears as Or’myr scrutinizes the intensified aura mist of violet Strafeling power gathered around the child, almost as intense as Or’myr’s own aura.

His power has grown, Or’myr notes with deep satisfaction.

“You did well,” he tells Effrey, “breaking the bonds of the Sublands.”

Effrey nods as he continues to sob, choking on his tears.

“Effrey,” Or’myr says, warm but firm as he brings his hand to the child’s shoulder. Effrey meets Or’myr’s purple eyes with a look of grave trust. “We need to be strong now and I know you can be,” Or’myr encourages. “We’re powerful and we’re needed by the entire Realm. By the entirety ofErthia. Do you understand?”

Effrey nods again and straightens, his jaw tensing with a look of resolve as he swallows back his tears.

Or’myr shoots him a look of approval before patting his shoulder, rising to his feet and turning to Elloren. “Cousin,” he says, another upswell of feeling overtaking him that’s mirrored in her eyes.

“It’s so very good to see you, cousin,” Elloren says as they draw each other into a heartfelt embrace.

Drawing back, Or’myr smiles slightly and motions toward Elloren’s newly pointed ear, concern surging as he takes in the jagged scar where her left ear’s point must have been.

“Who did that to you?” he asks, motioning toward it.

“Vogel,” she flatly replies. “Yvan healed it as best he could.”

Or’myr nods, forcing back the rise of rage over Vogel’s cruelty as he takes in thepained look tensing Elloren’s features. “Well, we still look even more alike, now,” he gently teases, gesturing toward his own pointed ears.

Elloren laughs, wiping away her tears. “That we do, my cousin.”

“I’d wager your child will join our point-eared club, as well,” Or’myr says with a wink, his throat catching with emotion as he briefly looks at Yvan, all three of them growing serious.

So very much at stake.

Steeling himself, Or’myr turns to Vang Troi. “I was told you have urgent need of my power.” He takes in the large Urisk presence surrounding them, kindred gems and geo-styluses in all of their hands.

“As you know,” Vang Troi says, her violet eyes grave, “we have the Shadow Wand in our possession. We need as much geomancy as possible to encase it in layers of the strongest stone that can be conjured.”

“Time to put that Strafeling level of power to work,” Bleddyn chimes in, a lethal light in her emerald eyes. Or’myr can sense the verdant geomancy radiating off the tall Urisk woman, her green glow almost Strafeling strong.

“That Wand is incredibly dangerous,” Vang Troi tells him as his eyes flick toward the cloth-wrapped Wand gripped in Wynter Eirllyn’s hand.

Another chill skitters down Or’myr’s spine. It’s one thing to hear of the evil tool, quite another to come face-to-face with it—the Wor Shadow Stylus spoken about in his Vo’lon faith’s sacred texts. And in every holy text of every land, fear of it echoing down through the ages.

The people of Erthia falling prey to it again and again and again.

“Our magical efforts support what all of Erthia’s myths describe,” Vang Troi states, her tone clipped. “The Wor can’t be destroyed. And it seems to have a mind of its own. A mind that feeds on fracture. It’s sending out dreams to try and escape our hold on it.”

Or’myr’s eyes widen.

“It came to me in a dream,” Bleddyn explains, a haunted light entering her gaze. “It showed me visions of myself in possession of it. Killing every Urisk belonging to every class above my Urol status to avenge the Urol and Uuril for centuries of oppression. Followed by visions of the Wand striking down every last non-Urol or Uuril person on Erthia. It filled me with this...feeling... that if I wielded it and wiped out every group that has ever oppressed my people... that a new, perfect age would come.”

“It came to me in a dream, as well,” Vang Troi interjects, warning in her violet eyes. “It urged me to cleanse Noilaan of everyone who has refused a link to the Forest. I could feel the Wand’s rage when I fought its pull.”

“We believe it was leading Damion Bane to attempt to reclaim it for the Magedom,” Elloren confides. “Wynter read Damion’s intent through her empathic link to IV, which showed her visions of his tree-witnessed actions.”

Or’myr meets Wynter Eirllyn’s silver-fire eyes.

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