The chamber fell silent as Cleora and her attendants departed, leaving grandmother and grandson alone among the glowing runes that worked to slow the chaos corruption in Jolthar's veins.
Ancient magic symbols pulsed along the floor, casting eerie light across their faces—illuminating the family resemblance that neither could deny despite years of estrangement. It was her divine magic which she used to heal Jolthar.
Johamma moved to the window, her delicate fingers tracing patterns in the condensation as she gazed toward the mountains far away. Her reflection showed none of her growing years; the divine magic had preserved her appearance—another secret of the Kaezhlar family that few outside their clan were aware of.
"So tell me, what was the real reason you came here, and were you aware of what happened at the lake?" Jolthar spoke like he was accusing her. He was firm about it, and he didn't care if he hurt her feelings.
