Fifteen years ago . . .
Rogned dreamed often about his ordeal with the serpent of the waters. He ached to speak of it to someone . . . anyone . . . to make some sense of what he thought must have been a kind of prescient vision or prophecy. More than anything, he wanted to ask Voran’s opinion of it. Voran had always been like an older brother to him, especially after Karakul’s death. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak with Voran.
With every passing day, Voran’s manner became more and more distant. Rogned sometimes caught Voran staring at him with wide eyes filled with either fear or veneration—or both. All were distasteful to Rogned. Yet, it was his fault that all this was happening—his own silly vanity to think that the talent of an artisan could summon a Power from the Heights.
Ne
