‘How lovely they are cooing.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m happy for Mjel. She longs to be loved.’

‘Vardille’s the same. He wouldn’t talk about it, not ever, but it’s there. I can tell because it’s missing. A lack. Are you following me, Herald?’

‘Of course. The most palpable wounds are often invisible.’

‘You are wise beyond your age.’

King Bryne Khryssalan stroked his beard. He had followed Vardille when the Crownguard snuck out of the tent before it dawned. From a distance, cautiously. He had also seen Mjelgralah waking and going after Vardille. Then, as chance would have it, Idamin appeared in the chief’s trails; thus, the King and the Herald now met beyond the treeline a hundred or so feet away from the banks of Ghynal, among the shadows, hiding behind the leaves of everbeech, watching the two of their friends splashing and swimming in the lake.

‘How curious a circumstance. Do you think we would have all turned out to be on good terms with each other had we met, say, in an inn? Without the urgence to bond so that we could survive together?’

‘I do,’ the King nodded. ‘We, as individuals, wouldn’t change in our core. Perhaps we wouldn’t reveal our true faces to the others soon but eventually things would be set in motion.’

‘I see. I thank for the Saint then, that their fates were inherently intertwined.’

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‘Intertwined they were, true,’ Bryne nodded again, sadness creeping in his voice. ‘But not in the way you’d think, Herald. Weep now, for there won’t be time to grieve later, though alive both of them will be.’

Idamin slowly looked at the man, admiration glinting in her eyes.

‘That is no ordinary speech, and I recognise truesight when I hear it. How would you know?’

‘I’ve seen it in the trail of stars.’

‘You’re a Seer,’ Idamin whispered. ‘That is your power.’ Bryne nodded; no other explanation was required.

‘Do you have Reborn among your people, Idamin?’

‘We do, but hardly a handful I know of. It’s rare a clan would count more than one in their ranks. Most of them are like you. Seers. The Saint saw fit to give the same gift to our Blessed.’

‘What a mystery,’ Bryne said, and opened his Well of Source, ‘to see that the further one ventures from the Throne, the better their chances are to be touched by the power.’

‘You asked me to stop you if I don’t understand what you say,’ Idamin said, gently putting a hand on the King’s arm. ‘This is what’s happening now.’

Bryne blinked and quickly let go of the faelin. The Veil had almost revealed itself to him. A dangerous game, he played; insanity was creeping around the gates of his mind.

‘Thank you, Herald.’ He focused and looked the blonde girl in the eyes. ‘When you reach Grospan, you need to deliver the message to the woman, first thing in the city. I fear you might be late, anyway.’

‘You’re talking as if you didn’t join us,’ Idamin studied the man. Then, with a sad sigh, she understood. ‘The stars.’

‘The stars.’

‘I promise you the message shall be delivered without loss of time.’

‘Thank you, Herald.’

‘No. I thank you, for sharing your stories with me, Sire.’