Saviadro stood for a moment, his knuckles whitening with frustration around his vessel as he quivered with anger. His control over his stolen bit of power was too new and uncertain. He doubted he would be able to strike the first blow. He jammed the vessel back into his pouch. The men did not lower their bows. He glared at each of them in turn.
“You will regret this.”
He turned his back and walked away.
Saviadro took shelter in a musty-smelling cave within the Barrier Mountains with the tattered remains of his pride just before the sun began to rise. He was still seething over how the men of Belierumar had spurned him.
Something has to change.
He was constantly hovering on the edge of exhaustion from his prolonged flight from Melaquenya. He had played his hand with the humans, and now
