After her daughter had departed, Ivyona moved to her scrying pool.
With a wave of her hand, the waters shimmered and revealed the Midlands. She focused her divine vision, searching for this Jolthar who had captured her husband's attention.
When she found him, Ivyona's breath caught in her throat.
The boy appeared ordinary enough—tall and of average build with silver snow hair and eyes that seemed too old for his youthful face. He was now lying on a bed with bandages.
But surrounding him was an aura she had never witnessed before. It wasn't normal, not like the strong humans. It wasn't the mark of a deivruta, which she could recognize all too well.
This was something utterly different—ancient, perhaps, but also new, as though the very cosmos had decided to try a different form of creation.
"What are you?" Ivyona whispered, finding herself strangely drawn to the mystery.
