6
The Black Onyx
“Long have mages pondered the enigma at the heart of crystalmancy,” Rignar said in a tone that reminded Shamil of Lore Mistress Ishala, without doubt his favourite tutor at the Doctrinate. “Why should it be that such varied and potent energies arise from mere inanimate stone?”
Despite his interest in what the mage had to say, Shamil found himself continually distracted by the perilousness of their course, straining to listen whilst simultaneously inching his way along a ledge perhaps eight inches wide at its broadest point. “I don’t see any steps or handholds around,” he said, quelling a surge of panic when his foot dislodged a stone from the ledge, sending it tumbling into the misty void below. “The sentinels don’t come here often, I assume.”
“Even today,” Rignar cont
