Curse of the Mistwraith - Chapter Three - Exile

[kalinara]

So last time, the asshole brother got dragged before the King of the enemy nation. The King was warned that whatever he did to the asshole brother would also happen to his own son. He decides to exile the kid instead.

I don't think mages are that easy to thwart, dude.

So this chapter is "Exile"



So we rejoin Lysaer, the generally more congenial brother, as he wakes up, disoriented in a strange place. Actually, he seems to be on a boat, at sea. There's salt in the air, and things smell like fish. Good guess. He tries to get upright, but is knocked out by a "stranger's muscled arm".

He wakes up again, as the boat is being dragged to shore. He's hauled upright, by some talkative fellows. And this actually makes me laugh a bit:

‘D’ye think the Rauven mage would care if we kept the jewels on ‘im?’ said a coarse male voice.

I remember being very amused by this when I first read it as a kid. I mean, last chapter, we had this pretty dramatic sorcerer's warning, using the illusion of the dead former Queen, proclaiming their great curse. I think I figured that if Arithon did get exiled, then the mages would use some sort of fancy spell to send Lysaer in after him.

Instead, apparently, the high mage just paid some random thugs to haul Lysaer to the gate and shove him in. I respect practicality in a man.

So anyway, Lysaer does indeed get shoved through the Gate, and when he wakes up next, it's to the sting of unbearable heat. We're told that "[b]itter dust dried the tissues of his nostrils at each breath and strange fingers searched his person, quick and furtive as rats' feet."

I kind of love that description. It sounds uncomfortable. The hands pull away as Lysaer stirs awake. It's Arithon, and to be honest, he doesn't seem like he's in any better shape than Lysaer:

‘We’re better matched this time, brother.’ The bastard’s voice was rough, as though with disuse. Face, hands and the shoulder underneath his torn shirt showed flesh frayed with scabs and congested still with the purpled marks of abuse.

Arithon's got Lysaer's dagger in his hand, and Lysaer asks if he's waiting for him to beg before cutting his throat. Arithon says that drawing a brother's blood is unlucky.

We get some more nice description, that I'll share:

A wasteland of dunes extended to an empty horizon. Devoid of landmark or dwelling, red, flinty sands buckled under shimmering curtains of heat. No living scrub or cactus relieved the unrelenting fall of white sunlight. The Gate’s legacy looked bleak enough to kill. Stabbed by grief that his royal father’s passion for vengeance had eclipsed any care for his firstborn, Lysaer clung wretchedly to dignity. Shaken to think that Amroth, his betrothed, every friend, and all of the royal honour that bound his pride and ambition might be forever reft from him, he drew breath in icy denial.

"Firstborn" is interesting here. Does the King of Amroth have other children? I don't recall them mentioned. (Lysaer mentioned one or two older half sisters who died via feud, but no younger siblings.) Anyway, Lysaer takes umbrage at the whole "Brother" thing, claiming he doesn't come from pirate stock.

Arithon just points out that their "differences of birth" don't really matter now that they can't go back home again.

There's a minor disagreement about the gate. Lysaer doesn't believe the Rauven mages would let their favorite grandson stay trapped. Arithon, on the other hand, seems to have some knowledge about the Gate and how this works, pointing out that there's no sign of magic energy.

Lysaer doesn't take this well, understandably, and decides to blame the only person nearby. He accuses Arithon of having created the illusion of the queen to seek his own vengeance.

Arithon denies that, of course, pointing out that between the drugs and the chains, he didn't exactly have room for "personal scores". But Lysaer, remembering the way Arithon had baited the King, doesn't believe him.

Arithon tries the sensible approach:

‘We’re both the victims of bloodfeud,’ Arithon said. ‘What’s past can’t be changed. But if we set aside differences, we have a chance to escape from this wasteland. ’

As crown prince, Lysaer was unaccustomed to orders or bluntness; from a s’Ffalenn whose wretched misfortune might have been arranged to deprive a kingdom of its rightful heir, the prospect of further manipulation became too vicious to bear. Methods existed to disarm a man with a dagger. Sand warmed the prince’s bootsoles as he dug a foothold in the ground. ‘I don’t have to accept your company.’

‘You will.’ Arithon managed a thin smile. ‘I hold the knife.’

But can't quite suppress his asshole tendencies. Still, he's not wrong. This seems a bit far to go to "deprive a kingdom of its rightful heir", Lysaer. What would even be the point? Arithon's father is dead. With Arithon exiled, his country's pretty much lost the feud entirely.

Anyway, Lysaer takes this as well as you'd expect. He springs for his half brother, but Arithon has the advantage. He points out that he could kill Lysaer, and tells him to remember that he didn't.

Ah, brotherly fisticuffs. I sympathize with Lysaer's confusion and frustration, to an extent. And I suppose I see how he got the impression that Arithon's a manipulative asshole, on account of we've seen Arithon be a manipulative asshole. But it's hard to follow his logic here. They're trapped in a desert. If Arithon wanted him dead, he could have done it pretty easily.

As mentioned though, thanks to his mage upbringing, Arithon knows a bit more about where they are than Lysaer does. He explains that there's another gate somewhere in the desert. But they'll have to work together.

Lysaer still can't quite let go of the blood feud. He points out that Seven generations of unforgiven atrocities stand between [them].

It's probably fair to note that Lysaer and Arithon have very different perspectives on the blood feud. We've met Lysaer's dad, so we can guess what the guy was raised to believe. His mother left when he was three, and there hasn't been mention so far of other close adults or mentors. So he would have gotten all that hate poured into his head without dilution.

In contrast, Arithon grew up outside of the feud. He lived in Rauven, not Karthan, and was raised by the high mage, not his father. He probably appreciated the feud in the sense of "Oh shit, those guys just killed a bunch of our guys and are trying to kill me!" but that's not the same as having been essentially brainwashed from birth.

Anyway, Arithon points out that there really isn't another choice. Then something interesting happens. Something whacks the back of Lysaer's legs. It's a brown cloth sack, sealed with wax, with the sigil of Rauven.

Apparently their grandfather sent a care package.

Arithon quickly tells Lysaer not to touch it. Lysaer ignores him, intending to claim the supplies himself. He gets zapped for his trouble. Arithon tries to help, but Lysaer isn't on board with that.

So Arithon opens the care package: five bundles of food and four water flasks. Finally, there's one more present: the emerald pommeled longsword we saw in Arithon's flashback. (Sunlight caught in the depths of an emerald pommel, flicking green highlights over features arrested in a moment of unguarded grief.)

Lysaer is pretty resentful of this, and it's hard to blame him. He wouldn't be here at all if grandpa hadn't liked his little brother better. He wants his share of the rations, so their chances "stand equal".

I mean, technically, Arithon doesn't have to share the rations at all? Of course he will, because Arithon, while an asshole, is not a total dick. But it's interesting that Lysaer isn't assuming that Arithon will up and abandon him. It suggests on some unconscious level, he realizes that he's being unfair.

He asks what right Arithon has to rule his fate, which seems a tad melodramatic, but Arithon just agrees he has no right. He does however have a sort of comparable experience, having served on a ship where the water casks broke in a storm. "The experience wasn't very noble."

Lysaer's response is interesting: ‘I’d rather take my chances than live on an enemy’s sufferance.’ Despising the diabolical sincerity of this latest s’Ffalenn wile, Lysaer was bitter.

I love the phrase "diabolical sincerity". It's something we saw a bit of earlier, when Arithon tried to provoke Lysaer into a mercy killing. Lysaer pitied his brother, and that turned into yet more ammunition for hatred. His dad did a number on him.

Arithon seems to have decided to go the "make allies through obstinance" route, and just tells Lysaer no. He'll have to trust him. He does however give Lysaer his dagger back, as a gesture of good faith.

Lysaer promptly throws it back at him. This leads to more fisticuffs, as Lysaer tries to overpower Arithon and go for the sword. It's a pretty vicious fight. Though hilariously, there's a moment where Arithon kicks sand in Lysaer's face, and Lysaer is "shocked to hesitation by dirty tactics", which, DUDE, you struck first!

Anyway, Arithon eventually gets the upperhand, and he's feeling less congenial, basically threatening Lysaer with sorcery if he doesn't cooperate.

I mean, dude, you could just leave him there.

Lysaer refuses to get up, and after Arithon finishes gathering up the provisions, he finally loses the last of his patience and makes good on his threat. And to be fair, it sounds pretty fucking awful:

Lysaer felt his mind clamped by remorseless force. Overcome by the brilliant, needle-point focus in the touch which pinned him, he lost his chance to resist. The blow which followed struck only his mind, but a scream of agony ripped from his throat.

‘Get up!’ Sweat ploughed furrows through the dirt on Arithon’s face. He attacked again without compunction. The prince knew pain that seared away reason; left nothing beyond an animal’s instinct to survive, he screamed again. Peal after peal of anguish curdled the desert silence before the punishment ended. Lysaer lay curled in the sand, shaking, gasping and angered beyond all forgiveness.

‘Get up.’

Balked to speechless frustration, Lysaer complied. But wedged like a knot in his heart was a vow to end the life of the sorcerer who had forced his inner will.

So this is going marvelously!

Anyway, they start traveling east. We're told that at some point, Arithon rips strips from his shirt to bind up his bare feet, and uses his shadow magic to provide shade. Lysaer is not happy. "Poisoned through by distrust, he alternated between silence and insults until the desert sapped his fresh energy."

And I mean, I sympathize to a point. Getting mind controlled sounds awful. But you could be practical about it.

I particularly like this bit here though.

Arithon drove on without comment. The prince grew to hate beyond reason the tireless step at his heel. In time, the Master’s assumption that he was his father’s son became only partially true; the rage which consumed Lysaer’s thoughts burned patient and cold as his mother’s.

Look, dude. I don't think the lady who decided "I don't want my son to be used as a weapon in this feud, so I'm going to bang my husband's enemy to provide HIM with an equal and opposite weapon" is maybe the wisest role-model in the world.

Anyway, they keep going until twilight. Lysaer takes off his boots, and his feet are scraped raw with blisters. Ouch. Of COURSE, he decides that he "preferred discomfort to the prospect of appealing to the mercy of his enemy."

For his part, Arithon orders him to keep his hands behind his back and gives him three swallows from one of the water flasks. Arithon also takes three swallows, which Lysaer found either comfort nor forbearance in the fact.

I'm not sure what that means.

Anyway, Arithon decides to try again:

Moved by the hatred in the eyes which tracked his smallest move, Arithon made his first unnecessary statement since morning. ‘The virtues of s’Ilessid have been justice and loyalty since time before memory. Reflect your father’s strengths, your Grace. Don’t cling to his faults.’

With a slice of his sword, the Master parted the twine which bound a wrapped package of food. His weapon moved again, dividing the contents into halves before his battered scabbard extinguished the dull gleam of the blade. Arithon looked askance, his face shadowed in failing light. ‘Show me a rational mind, Prince of Amroth. Then I’ll grant you the respect due your birthright.’

Lysaer hardened his heart against truce; s’Ffalenn guile had seduced s’Ilessid trust too often to admit any pardon. With nothing of royal birthright left beyond integrity, self-respect demanded he endure his plight without shaming the family honour. Lysaer accepted cheese and journey-biscuit from Arithon’s hand in silence, his mind bent on thoughts of revenge in the moment his enemy chose to sleep.

There's something weirdly amusing to me about Lysaer plotting revenge while they have a picnic lunch.

Also, I'm reminded about how the Briane's first officer thought that Lysaer in captivity would be winning his captors over with clever satire and charm. Doesn't really seem accurate now.

Actually though, they don't sleep. As soon as they're done eating, Arithon pushes them onward. Dude? That seems...less than wise. You're clearly your mother's son as well.

This bit amuses me too:

With feigned resignation the prince reached for his boots only to find his way blocked by a fence of drawn steel.

Sword in hand, Arithon spoke. ‘Leave the boots. They’ll make your feet worse. Blame your vanity for the loss. You should have spoken before you got blistered.’

Did you really have to draw your sword for that, dude? You're BOTH melodramatic idiots.

Anyway, Lysaer continues to plot melodramatically: Arithon seemed edgy as a fox boxed in a wolf’s den; perhaps his sorcerer’s self-discipline was finally wearing thin. Sapping heat and exertion would exact cruel toll on the heels of a brutal confinement. Possibly Arithon was weak and unsure of himself, Lysaer realized. The thought roused a predator’s inward smile. The roles of hunter and hunted might soon be reversed. His enemy had been foolish to keep him alive.

He monologues like this a LOT.

We get a nice nighttime description of the desert:

At nightfall, the sky above the Red Desert became a thief’s hoard of diamonds strewn across black velvet; but like a beauty bewitched, such magnificence proved short-lived. The mild breeze of twilight sharpened after dusk, swelling into gusts which ripped the dry crests of the dunes. Chased sand hissed into herringbone patterns and the alien constellations smouldered through haloes of airborne dust.

They keep walking. Lysaer's pretty miserable, thinking about court life and the beautiful lady he'd left behind at South Isle.

Aw. I do sympathize with that. Through no fault of his own, Lysaer's basically lost his entire life. It's just unfortunate that he's focusing his blame on the one person who had even less control over the incident than he did.

They finally do pause for rest, and Lysaer falls asleep instantaeously. When he wakes up, he finds that Arithon had used a cloak and shadow magic to make them a sort of shelter. Though of course, "the fact that his makeshift shelter also protected his half-brother won him no gratitude." And we're told that despite dreadful thirst and aching muscles, Lysaer "recovered enough equilibrium to hate."

Of course he did.

Arithon hasn't slept at all, by the way. He may or may not be sustaining himself with magic. Either way, he's clearly also their mother's son. And by that, I mean, he's a fucking idiot.

They keep traveling over days. We get some nice description:

Arithon had been thin before exile. Now, thirst and privation pressed his bones sharply against blistered skin. His pulse beat visibly through the veins at neck and temple, and weariness stilled his quick hands. The abuse of sun and wind gouged creases around reddened, sunken eyes. Ragged and gaunt himself, Lysaer observed that the sorcerer’s discipline which fuelled Arithon’s uncanny alertness was burning him out from within. His vigilance could not last forever. Yet waking time and again to the fevered intensity of his enemy’s eyes, the prince became obsessed with murder. Rauven and Karthan between them had created an inhuman combination of sorcery and malice best delivered to the Fatemaster’s judgement.

And obsession, of course. Dude, really?

But then, who knows, a lot of this is probably exacerbated by heat exhaustion and dehydration.

The inevitable happens on the fifth day, when Lysaer wakes up to find Arithon had keeled the fuck over. Yeah, called that. Dumbass. Lysaer now has the sword.

And then things get pretty brutal, as Lysaer beats and kicks his frustration out on his half-brother. There's a point where he kicks him in the ribs and "bone snapped audibly".

When he stops, Arithon's basically on the ground gurgling that he'd "hoped for a better end between [them]"

Yeah, that...was probably wishful thinking, dude.

After a brief seizure, Arithon gets control of himself enough to try to impart what he knows about the Gates.

This is pretty interesting. Arithon tells Lysaer, and us, that the ancestors who founded their royal lines came through this wasteland from another gate, which is near or in a ruined city called Mearth. There's some sort of curse though, so Lysaer should beware. He's got a "bubbling cough" now, which doesn't sound particularly good, and tells Lysaer that he's got a chance at life, and not to waste it.

This kind of snaps Lysaer out of his murderous rage, and he wonders if he'd misjudged him all along. ("What if, unlike every s'Ffalenn before him, this bastard's intentions were genuine?") Why hadn't Arithon just stabbed him early on when he was helpless?

Might have been good to think about this before beating a man to death, dude.

Lysaer accuses Arithon of using sorcery against him. Which is true, enough. Though I mean, the choice was sorcery or leaving your ass behind, dude. Arithon's explanation is that basically he was provoking Lysaer's hatred in order to stiffen his will and keep him going.

...yeah, that tracks. "How can I accomplish my goal in the most self-sabotaging, likely-to-backfire-on-me way as possible?" -Arithon, probably.

He passes out not too long after that, leaving Lysaer to consider his next course of action. He considers killing Arithon with the sword. "Yet the weapon itself balked an execution’s simplicity; exquisitely balanced, the tempered edges designed to end life instead offered testimony on Arithon’s behalf."

My god, even your sword is fucking melodramatic.

And now we tangent about the sword, as Lysaer remembers the legend that it had been brought from another world. This may be evidence that Arithon's claim is true. But he also remembers Arithon's "performance before Amroth's council, his own life the gambit for whatever deeper purpose he had inveigled to arrange."

...what?

Also, you did kind of just beat him mostly to death. Should you be standing around like an idiot?

Anyway, in a fit of pique, as he tries to figure out the contradictions of his brother, which honestly, seem about as complex as a child's arithmetic problem at the moment. (Can I be dramatic + Can I be an asshole + Will this make my life substantially worse in the near or far future = Arithon's course of action at any given moment.), Lysaer flings the sword away, and says that the desert can be Arithon's judge. He starts collecting half of the supplies.

Dude, you're leaving the guy suffering from seizures and bubbling coughs. I think you could probably take all the supplies at this point. He's not going to need them. Revenge accomplished.

But there's a delightful bit here that proves that Lysaer and Arithon are indeed brothers. See, when he flung the sword away in a fit of pique, it had sliced through the last of the waterflasks. Fucking dumbass. Now they're both doomed.

Guilt drove Lysaer to his feet. Shadow mimed his steps like a drunk as he fled toward empty hills, and tears of sweat streaked his face. The sun scourged his body and his vision blurred in shimmering vistas of mirage.

‘The wasteland will avenge you, bastard,’ said Lysaer, unaware the heat had driven him at last to delirium.

They might be doomed, but they're going to be DRAMATIC about it.

So anyway, Arithon wakes up alone in an empty desert. He's not doing so great. Apparently, his "sorcerer's awareness" can tell him that he's got a collapsed lung which is drowning in fluid. Wow. Sorcerer's awareness seems like it sucks.

Anyway, he doesn't actually resent Lysaer for what happened. He apparetly had been close to murdering Lysaer himself a few times. And really, given how his luck has been lately, he's going to take Lysaer surviving to find the second gate as "one small victory amid a host of failures."

I feel like both of these guys would probably benefit from a lot of therapy.

Arithon is pretty sure he's going to die, but he's decided "Death would not claim him without the grace of a final struggle.". Yeah, he's definitely the sort to tell the Grim Reaper to fuck himself. He's decides to drag himself over to the cloak-shelter.

Which means he sees the sword and the destroyed flasks, and starts angry-crying at the "ugly conclusion that Lysaer had rejected survival". He wonders if guilt induced this.

No, just stupidity.

But there goes the ONE victory that Arithon's managed. Oops. So now there's some delirious hallucinations: an instrument abandoned at Rauven, his grandfather holding up the nifty sword reproachfully while standing over Lysaer's corpse.

When Arithon protests that he didn't kill him, the hallucination insists that he failed to save him. Honestly dude, I'm not sure your grandfather cared.

But the hallucinations get more surreal: going to the destruction of ships in battle, and Arithon dreams himself judged guilty. Only to be told to hold still.

Lysaer is there. Actually there. He's found water, and he's decided he's going to save his brother. Um. I think it's going to take more than water, dude.

But...maybe not. He gets Arithon wrapped up in the shelter-cloak and basically drags him to a swanky looking magic grove. Even Lysaer can tell that a sorcerer made it. And it's got a pretty nifty fountain!

See, when Lysaer found the place, he took one swallow of the water, and suddenly his fatigue, thirst, and general exposure issues were GONE. He also ends up catching a glimpse of the city of Mearth, which means Arithon wasn't lying, and his "s'Ilessid justice" won't let him abandon him to die.

Arithon looks pretty bad:

The prince knelt and turned back the cloak. A congested whisper of air established that Arithon still breathed. His skin was dry and chill to the touch, his body frighteningly still. Blood flowed in scalding drops from his nose and mouth as Lysaer propped his emaciated shoulders against the ivy-clad marble of the well.

But...the water works. Arithon wakes up instantly and more than a little freaked out. His injuries are fixed, yay, but there's something else going on, which he attributes to sorcery more powerful than the gate.

Eventually, he finds an inscription, which Lysaer can't read. He explains: basically, the well was enchanted by a sorcerer named Davien, and whoever drinks it will live for five hundred years.

Arithon, moody drama king that he is, says that he doesn't know whether to thank Lysaer for life, or curse him for the "death [he's] been denied." Lysaer's admittedly also not so enthused at a possible five hundred years in a wasteland.

-
The second part of the chapter is "Transgression" and we meet some new characters. This is a doorstop series, after all, so there will be a LOT of characters.

These two characters are sorceresses. The first, Lirenda, is an important sort. She's "First Enchantress to the Prime". The second, Elaira, is a simple initiate.

There's a lot of cryptic dialogue, similar to the scenes with Sethvir, Asandir and Dakar last chapter. And I don't really think we're supposed to understand what's going on.

This is what I gather from this section though:

1. These women are "Koriani Enchantresses"

2. The Koriani enchantresses have a pretty good idea of what's going on, and what Asandir and Dakar from last chapter are doing. It may or may not involve something called the "West Gate Prophecy"

3. At one point the Koriani enchantresses had an awesome magic stone called the "Waystone" which they've lost. The sorcerer Sethvir could probably find it for them, but the Koriani distrust the Fellowship of Seven. (Of which Sethvir and Asandir are a part.)

4. Elaira is a restless, rebellious sort who keeps suggesting things that her superiors don't like. (Such as asking the sorcerer dude to find their missing stone.)

5. There's some fun mystical world building here. Apparently the world of Athera has "twelve channels of magnetic force" that do...something? Magical I guess.

--

We actually go back to the brothers with this part, called "Curse of Mearth".

They actually seem to be getting along now. What's a bit of attempted murder when it comes to family.

Arithon eventually breaks the silence to ask an uncomfortable question: namely, what does Lysaer know about his own magic gift.

If you recall, BOTH brothers are supposed to be born with powers. Arithon is fully trained. Lysaer is not. This is a sensitive topic, but Arithon's not trying to mock him. He thinks they may need Lysaer's gift as a weapon.

Lysaer explains: He's entirely self taught, since his genius dad decided to ban all mages from court after the Queen left. But he's been practicing on his own for a long time, and can manage to cast something like a lightning bolt, which he thinks could kill someone.

Lysaer's self-conscious about this. Also, he's having his own preoccupation here. He's realizing that when they get to whereever they're going, Arithon will probably be fine. Between magic and sailing, he's got a lot of pretty marketable skills. Lysaer, on the other hand, only really knows how to be a prince. It's not that he has NO skills, of course. But they all pretty much rely on being in a position of leadership. He could maybe be some kind of fencing tutor or captain of a guard. Maybe a mercenary, though he REALLY doesn't like killing for a cause outside his beliefs.

He's feeling kind of worthless and at a loss right now. And now that he's no longer obsessed with fraternal homicide, I sympathize more.

We get a nice bit of description for Mearth: The sun lowered and Mearth loomed nearer. Centuries of wind had chiselled the defences left behind, until bulwark, wall and archway lay like tumbled skeletons, half-choked with sand. The citadel was not large; but the size of the fallen blocks from the gate towers suggested builders mightier than man.

Unfortunately, Arithon doesn't know that much more than Lysaer does. There was SOME kind of calamity, a fall of a sorcerer, that led to a curse that killed everyone. He has no details though.

They go in. Arithon's sorcerer training gives him an advantage. Lysaer spots the Gate and is excited. (And a bit nettled when Arithon doesn't respond, which I find funny, considering he'd tried to murder him not that long ago). But they've got problems: blots of living darkness are moving around, apparently part of the curse.

Unfortunately, Arithon's shadow magic can't control them. They're not "true shadow" but rather "an absorption of light". When it starts for them, Arithon gets it pinned and tells Lysaer to try to strike it with his light.

It works, yay! We're told that Arithon's face shows "open admiration" and his praise warms Lysaer. Aw.

They discuss what makes the curse susceptible to light. Arithon believes it's overload. The curse keeps absorbing energy to maintain itself, which is why it looks like a shadow, but the influx of force burns it out.

They work together. Arithon forming barriers with real shadows to keep the curses off of them, while Lysaer zaps them whenever he can. It's rough going though. The light is drawing them in, though without it, they're fucked.

When Arithon stumbles, we get this cute moment: "Lysaer caught his brother’s wrist. He gathered himself, pressed forward, smashed back. Mearth shook with the blast. Stonework tumbled, glazed with slag. Desperation drove the prince to tap greater depths. Light hammered outwards. Sand fused into glass. Winds raised by the backlash gusted, howled, and flung Arithon like a puppet against his half-brother’s shoulder. Their next step was completed locked in mutual embrace."

Aw, it's funny to say this after all the obsessive homicide shenanigans earlier, but I'm happy they're getting along.

Anyway, they do manage to get to the Gate. Lysaer stumbles this time, but Arithon manages to latch onto him and throw them both through.

The last bit of the chapter, "Predictors", gives us three glimpses of current events.

1. A man traveling through bog, holding a staff of plain grey ash.

2. Some armed men, in leather and fur, about to ambush a packtrain filled with silk and crystal.

3. A black winged beast summoning others and flying in formation.

And here, the chapter ends!

Comments

[copperfyre]

That was fun! I love both these dumbasses.

[bestbrotherever]

If this were published today, it'd probably be called MCU Thor and Loki fanfic with the serial numbers filed off. I am living for the brothers' dynamic.

[kalinara]

Hah, it does kind of accidently come across that way, doesn't it? That's kind of fascinating!