When it came to Aethelgard’s politics, Morwyn handled everything that didn’t directly require Torian’s presence. He was freed to focus on the breach. His days were spent deep within the Drakemoor vaults working on the scepter. It was a massive undertaking, requiring him to channel and compress centuries of accumulated elemental magic into a single, focused point.
The scepter itself was a staff of gleaming white oak topped with a fist-sized sapphire that pulsed with the deepest blue light. Torian, still recovering from the magical backlash and the torture he endured, pushed himself to the brink of exhaustion every day. He needed to be able to not just open the Veil, but to hold the tear open against the powerful temporal currents that would naturally try to seal it.
“The scepter is resp
