“I think this one’s Hen Oak.” Likaan was kneeling, concentrating on the shrub in front of him. “Yea?”

  Lillia paused to glance at the small plant he was indicating. She stifled a sigh. “That’s wormwood.” She refocused on the wooden bowl in her hand. It was filled with a mess of half-pulverized roots.

  Likaan scratched at the stubble on his chin and furrowed his eyebrows, putting on a show of uncertainty. “I thought wormwood only grew under trees,” he said. “I’m pretty sure mother said it grows under trees with twisty roots. Big roots that stick out of the ground. The roots of the trees, I mean.”

  Lillia’s words were flat as she turned to him, “Do you mean Winterwood? We were talking about Winterwood the other day. Were you listening in again?”

  “No. Well, yes, but—"

  “Wormwood will grow wherever,” she interrupted, “but Winterwood requires a specific tree, as far as I know. It only grows under a Silver Praif. And I do mean only.”

  “Because that particular tree has twisty roots that stick out of the ground?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. Because, unlike the Common and Greater Valley Praif, the Silver Praif’s roots grow a complex trabecular ring around the trunk, just under the soil surface.”

  “So, I was half right.”

  “If a root is exposed, a root is exposed,” Lillia snapped. “That observation alone, in any way, cannot be used to determine anything about any plant. And since that,” she gestured at the small shrub, “isn’t sitting under a Silver Praif, it can’t be Winterwood. And since I know more than you, I’m telling you it’s not Hen Oak. It’s wormwood.”

  Likaan peered at his sister, examining her quietly for a moment. “Lillia, why are you so upset today?”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “Well, usually you’re out here skipping around as happy as can be. Smiling, mumbling, rolling around in the grass. Starring at every leaf and twig like they’re any more interesting than any other leaf or twig, and I can usually barely get a word out of you. You know, I usually like being around you.” Likaan threw up his arms. “Which is the whole reason I came out here today. You’ve done nothing but mope around for the last two hours. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish I’d just stayed and helped with the damn shoes.”

  Lillia was seemingly embarrassed from the outburst, her face reddening. “I’m sorry, Likaan.”

  “Just tell me what’s up.”

  “They were arguing again. I think father is leaving.”

  Likaan was quiet, contemplating, staring at his sister, trying to understand what she meant. “Leaving?”

  Lillia nodded, misty-eyed.

  “What do you mean, leaving?”

  “According to mother, he’s thinking about leaving.”

  “What does that mean, though? Leaving for what? Leaving for where?”

  “I don’t know. I heard mother crying and begging him not to leave us,” Lillia’s words were shaky and strained as she tried holding back the feelings behind them. “And it felt strange because father wasn’t saying anything. Then mother kept repeating it. Begging him not to leave her, to leave us.” The damn broke and Lillia sobbed.

  Likaan, feeling his earlier irritation fully melt away, put his arms around Lillia. “What did father say?”

  Lillia shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She wiped her eyes. “He said something like ‘there’s nothing I can do’, or ‘I don’t have a choice’ or something like that. But mother saw me and said to leave them be.”

  Likaan thought about this. He hadn’t noticed anything strange or heard about anything that might take his father away. Nothing that they would have forewarning about, anyway. He hadn’t seen his parents this morning. “Wait a minute.”

  Lillia looked up, her face pitiful.

  “Just this morning father got a letter requisitioning six-hundred pairs of boots for Lord Udulrak. It came by courier. He had to read it on the spot to send word back with the courier. He specifically said he’ll have to focus on the order day in and day out to have them finished in time. I guess Lord Udulrak wants the order completed by the end of the summer. But father was happy about it. He said the order is worth hundreds of gold.”

  Lillia was confused. “Well, then why—"

  “You obviously misunderstood something.” Likaan patted her shoulder in an attempt at reassuring her. “You heard something that probably isn’t really that big of a deal and you stewed on it without having all of the information.” He took a step back as she glared at him.

  “Mother was crying. Mother!”

  “So? It could be anything. But obviously father will be here while he fills that order. He’s going to be busy. That’s a lot of leather that we don’t have. I don’t even know how we could get it. We’d have to import it. Oh, maybe he’s making a trip to Telean for materials. That’s a seven-day ride with the wagon and even longer returning laden.”

  Lillia thought about that. A spark of hope filled Lillia’s heart. A smile crept onto her face. “That makes sense,” she said. She searched his face. “That makes so much sense,” she repeated, smiling broader. “And mother is always overreacting about things.”

  “Must be a woman thing,” Likaan mumbled. Then he grunted in pain, toppling over after Lillia kicked his knee. “What the hell!”

  “Oops. I overreacted,” she mocked, halfheartedly. Lillia rubbed her eyes. They were red, puffy. Her face was smudged from sweat, tears and snot combining with the dirt and debris she’d accumulated while digging out a horn hare burrow, and pushed around as she wiped her nose and the tears steaking down her cheeks. “But, I don’t know. Father might be out of town for a couple weeks, and mother breaks down about it?” She looked down at Likaan. “Oh, get up. I didn’t kick you that hard. You’re so dramatic.”

  Glaring, Likaan got to his feet and hobbled alongside his sister as she started walking back towards town, dumping the half-mashed contents of her bowl into her satchel. “They don’t tell us everything and they hardly tell me anything. Why don’t you just go ask mother what’s going on?”

  Lillia sighed, “I’m going to.”

  They walked in silence for several minutes. As they passed through the shade of a tall oak tree Likaan asked, “So, why does Winterwood only grow under the Silver Praif?”

  “Trying to take my mind off it?”

  “I’m genuinely interested,” he said. And it was true.

  She glanced at him side-eyed, sighing again. “Well, there’s a few reasons, I guess. It has to do with the Silver Praif’s coronue.”

  “The what?”

  “The trabecular ring of roots. It’s called the coronue.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

  “That’s because you eavesdrop bits and pieces of my lessons.”

  “Anyway,” he drawled out exaggeratedly.

  “Anyway,” she mimicked. “There’s a mutation unique to the Silver Praif. It gives the tree the ability to convert light specifically from the moon into a specialized kind of energy with a less somewhat obscure function.” Lillia loved talking botany. And as she spoke, she started to feel herself being swept away. She felt safe in the structured, honest, cause and effect nature of the world. “See, the Silver Praif doesn’t require moonlight. As rare as it is, it’s actually mostly found in small groves in the Balsdrean Rainforest. And only under dense canopy in the Balsdrean, where moonlight can’t penetrate. So, the tree’s coronue serves a different function in what is considered the normal circumstances. The roots will release nutrients into the soil making it rich and balanced. The roots of the coronue, that is. And other plants will grow in that fertilized soil, around the trunk. The reason the tree does this is unclear. But that particular soil is called Lole and if you could find a grove of Silver Praif and collect a handful of soil, it can sell for a very large sum of gold for even the smallest quantities.”

  “That’s very Interesting.”

  “But in very, very rare instances, Silver Praif Groves have been found growing outside of the canopy. There’s actually a known grove about one hundred miles southeast of Polyndham, which is where likely all of the Lole on the market is sourced.”

  “Alright, but what about the Winterwood?”

  “Well, hold on. Just let me illustrate the rarity of this shrub, if you don’t mind. So, the Silver Praif is already rare, almost only ever found in the Balsdrean, under the canopy where moonlight can’t reach it. It’s coronue essentially gives up a portion of the nutrients the tree has gathered, releasing it into the soil, allowing different plants to grow better than they otherwise would have. Silver Praif’s are known to exist outside of the Rainforest where they essentially function the same way they do inside. They’re rare, but it’s established that multiple groves exist. But one grove was found that didn’t behave in the normal manner. The only one. It’s was so unique a monastery was built around it for Members of the Faith. The trees in this grove drink the moonlight of the night in addition to the sunlight of the day. What makes this particular grove different? No one knows. Mother says they are identical to any other Silver Praif. They all have the ability to drink the moonlight. A Grandmaster Herbalist proved it once, you know? He managed to coax a single tree into activating this ability. It was groundbreaking. Although without his constant attention and skills, the tree ended up reverting back to its previous state. But there’s that singular known grove. When night falls the leaves absorb the moonlight, and mother told me the leaves give off a very faint illumination. Anyway, the tree collects this energy at nighttime and during the daytime a byproduct is released into the soil via the coronue. The Lole produced in this grove is priceless. But even with that byproduct, the Lole is still Lole. Just concentrated. Like a thousand-fold. But then in the absolute center of the grove, there are around twenty trees that don’t have rings of thick, flourishing growth surrounding their trunks. They have small white shrubs. Pure white. They are called Winterwood. Once the ranking was done, guess what it was.”

  “I guess.”

  She frowned but continued. “When they were inspected for ranking, a Legendary rank was revealed. But no one could say why. The Winterwood’s rank could be identified, but it’s traits remained obscure. It’s properties unknown. It was Legendary, but for no obvious reasons. It just was. So, it was viewed more as an oddity. It’s rank attributed to its rarity, which is absurd. You at least know that. And it behaved unusually as well. The Winterwood’s root system doesn’t function like any other root systems. Instead of branching out in the soil, the roots of the Winterwood are flat and they latch directly onto the coronue of the Silver Praif, weaving throughout. It exclusively and greedily drinks of the Lole, as near to the source as it can, not allowing other plants to encroach.”

  “Is it a parasite?”

  “Mother doesn’t think so. She says she saw the grove once. And the way she talked about it, a good amount of the information she shared with me probably came from her own research. She thinks the Winterwood and the Silver Praif have a symbiotic relationship. She also said she thinks the Lole surrounding the Winterwood is likely better than anywhere else in the grove. Of course, no one is allowed to set foot inside the small forest of trees. The monks only harvest the Lole from the outermost border, replacing it one-to-one with a soil they cultivate.”

  “How would she come to that conclusion if no one’s allowed inside?”

  “Well, I’m fairly certain she definitely went in and studied the site when she had the chance.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “You know, mother knows a lot. She has very unique knowledge. An actual ocean of details and secrets far surpassing most of those compendiums I’m forced to study. If something isn’t clear to me with the text I have access to, I ask mother, and she gives me a book’s worth of minutely detailed information. She puts them to shame, honestly. And sometimes hard getting her to share something with me, and only after exhaustive, persistent badgering on my part will she give in. You know, going by our library alone, things just don’t add up. Have you ever considered that we live in this small, dirt-poor town surrounded by some truly disgraceful members of our race? Some adults barely able to string together ten words to express there thoughts. All illiterate. The most basic arithmetic. Yet, we have a library in our basement filled to bursting with books and scrolls and tomes worth tens of thousands of gold. I think Mother used to be someone important. I’d bet she has unusually powerful abilities.”

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  Likaan’s eyes twinkled as he mumbled. “You have no idea.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Likaan winked at his sister. “I’ve always had my own suspicions, as well.”

  Lillia narrowed her eyes at him.

  “I knew it wasn’t Hen Oak, by the way.”

  Momentarily caught off guard, Lillia was able to smile again. She felt the urge to tease her brother. To banter, not retort. For the first time since morning, she realized, her chest wasn’t heavy, her mind not suffocating in a fog of worry. “Of course you did.” Her tone serene. Barely a trace of condescension.

  “No, really. I did.”

  “Likaan, I’ve seen you so confused you were unable to pick out Andorian grass from Bush grass and you were standing on it.” Lillia cackled.

  “You’re about the same kind of insufferable whether you’re moping or happy, you know?”

  “Yet, you’re always ditching your work so you can tag along with me while I do mine,” she retorted.

  “Well, I just don’t feel like spending the time working in a profession that I don’t plan on pursuing.” Likaan spit. “God forbid I’m ever known as the village cobbler.” He looked up. He inhaled deeply, purposefully. “What’s that smell?”

  Lillia inhaled. “It’s the boar for tonight. Have you only just smelled it?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been so focused. I’d planned on keeping up with you today. Dogging your heels.” His voice took a different shape, sounding more elegant and scholarly. Like mother’s. “Hanging on your every word as you pulled back the veil, explaining how trees are somehow responsible for the air I breath.” Likaan smiled and rolled his eyes. “And then when I noticed your fussy attitude, I got distracted trying to figure out how to annoy you enough to pull you out of it.” Likaan inhaled again and groaned. “I’m so hungry.”

  Lillia lightly struck his arm. Her own stomach was audible as she realized she was hungry as well. “I can’t believe your Ageing is tonight.”

  Likaan struck her back more forcefully. “Because you’re jealous?”

  Lillia rubbed at her arm, scowling at her brother. “You shouldn’t hit women.”

  “I’ve never hit a woman in my life. My word on it.” Likaan ignored Lillia’s glare. “You’re not a woman, and I can hit a sister all I want. And honestly there’s nothing you can do about it.” He gave her a demeaning look and mustered enough pomp to make a noble blush. “No right-minded, self-respecting citizen would believe the wails of an eight-year-old girl over the calm, cool eloquent words of a gentleman such as myself.” He sniffed.

  “You’re an idiot. Your words might impress everyone else, but I know there’s not much else to you. Half the time I think you say things in too many words just to get people to praise how smart you think you are.”

  He laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Words are a man’s greatest weapon, little sister. True, words alone aren’t enough. But I do pride myself in having the brains to back them up. Though I guess we can’t all be as smart as you.”

  “I can’t tell if that was a jab.”

  Likaan chuckled softly, then became more serious. He slowed his pace and she slowed to match. “My Ageing is tonight. For weeks I’ve been stressing about it and the new expectations it will bring. Lillia, why do you think I sit in on your lessons with mother? When she allows me, anyway. Why do think I’m always trying to listen in? Why do you think I follow you around out here, trudging through the brambles, asking all the questions I can think of?” He grunted, frustrated. “The fact is I already know everything about leatherworking. Do I have the skill to match father? No. But I have the knowledge and twelve years of experience. But what you have is much more interesting and potentially beneficial to me. To my future.” Likaan raised his hands, gesturing all around. “An unsurpassed knowledge of the natural world. In all its depth and meticulous minuteness. I’ve never said this to you, but I’m man enough to admit when I’m outclassed intellectually. Woman or not. And I would be remiss if I didn’t spend a portion of my time attempting to learn alongside a mind capable of peering through the seemingly unconnected and chaotic workings of nature.” Likaan paused, conscious of his monologue. He huffed. “Mother’s brilliant. Of course. And I know there are likely countless things in her head that she’s yet to teach you. Things not found in all the books in her library. Things unknown to anyone. But I’d be blind if I couldn’t see the difference between the mind of a learned master, and the intuitive, boundless mind of a student capable of dispelling the abstract fog that permeates our existence. And if I couldn’t see that, I may as well resign my life to the leather.”

  Lillia exploded with laughter. And her reaction brought a deep blush to Likaan’s face. She attempted to talk through her laughs and her thirst for air. “Likaan, that was simultaneously the nicest, dumbest, most beautiful load of crap I’ve ever heard from you. Or anyone, for that matter.” After some effort, Lillia got herself under control. “Very refreshing, actually. I had no idea you knew so many words.”

  Likaan’s blush shifted from the red of embarrassment to that of irritation. “Is that all you have to say?” he growled.

  She batted her eyes at him, beaming. “I think you insulted father in there somewhere.”

  With an exasperated expiration Likaan increased his pace, leaving his stupidly smiling sister behind.

  Lillia joked at Likaan. In truth, though, his words touched her. He was not typically so complimentary. Toward anyone. Not genuinely. And it was somewhat unusual for them to talk this much, so it was sometimes easy to forget that Likaan was cleverer than everyone she knew by leaps and bounds. Besides mother, of course. And he is considerate in his elevation in a way she is not. Lillia’s eyes unfocussed. She has a memory from when she was younger. Likaan, with clear amusement after watching his toddler sister explain why spoiled lamb made a woman’s household ill, pulled Lillia aside and whispered to her. “Sometimes people don’t want answers, you know. And those that do want answers, can’t accept them from children, and won’t accept them from someone who makes them feel stupid. Regardless of how correct those answers are. And I’ve found that often times its best to just dumb it down when talking to people.” Likaan stuck a piece of straw in his mouth and adopted a drawling wheezy voice. “Folks’re more receptive when you sound like them.” He pulled the straw from his mouth and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Even though a lot of times it’s easier to understand the swine than the swineherd.” Lillia remembered giggling at her brother’s silliness and getting tickled in return. Lillia smiled wider. She broke into a jog to catch up to him. “Thanks, Likaan.”

  He smiled, then glanced sideways at her. “Can I let you in on a secret? An important secret that stays between us?”

  She looked at him, curiously. That was not something Likaan would say. She nodded. “What is it?”

  “It’s about my Endowment.”

  Lillia’s breath caught. Likaan had never discussed his skills, or levels. And that was only the everyday stuff. But his Age skill? No one discussed their Age skill. Ever. No intelligent people, anyway. One’s Age skill could be the source of great animosity. It’s what propelled you into adulthood, a tool to prepare you for the world. Usually, it was likely a mundane advantage that wasn’t present beforehand. In theory. But it could very literally turn a nobody into a lord of lords in rare instances. And Likaan wanted to talk about his? With her? “Your Age skill?”

  “I acquired it this morning.” He chuckled softly, almost lovingly. “In the outhouse.”

  “What!” Lillia joined in his amusement.

  “Yes. It was perfect. Because as I sat there, vulnerable in too many ways, I received something unfathomable. Sovereign’s Sight.”

  “Sovereign’s Sight? Is that your skill’s name?”

  Likaan nodded. “I need to ask that you never repeat its name again.”

  Lillia was offended. “I would never speak of your skills. Ever.”

  “Lillia.” He had stopped walking, and as he turned to face her, his eyes flashed. For a moment they shone with a bright, silvery light. “This isn’t some common skill.”

  Lillia was suddenly uneasy. She didn’t speak, searching his eyes. Waiting.

  “Forgive me. But as I told you, I’ve always known how intelligent you are. I’ve known since you were a little kid. But now, I can see it. I can see your potential. Your eighth year was what? Six months ago? I can see your Kindling, Lillia.”

  She stepped back, unconsciously. “Excuse me?”

  “I see it. It’s not hidden from my eyes. Lillia, I see everything.”

  Lillia’s unease increased. “Just shut up, Likaan. You’re being stupid.”

  “I can see your soul, sister.”

  “Shut up!” she bellowed. “It’s not funny. You shouldn’t even joke like this.”

  “Such a very unique Kindling,” said Likaan, unphased, as his gaze bore into her.

  Her eyes went wide. Her mind, usually so clear and calm, was racing. Confused. She took another step back. Then another.

  Likaan stepped forward. Refusing to let his sister widen the gap between them. Just as her body sought to prevent him from closing it. His eyes flashed with light again. “Alchemical Botany.”

  Lillia cried out in shock. A sudden, sharp cry. As if she’d been struck. Her eyes remained wide and unblinking, filling with tears. She struggled to get her words out. “How do you know that skill?” Her chin trembled and her face tightened as she desperately attempted to contain the fit of sobs threatening to burst out.

  Likaan fixed his gaze on her. His face expressionless. Almost cold. His eyes lit up once more. This time, however, the light did not go out. When he spoke, his voice seemed changed. Deeper, rougher. “You have a secret, Lillia. I can see your skills. I can see your levels.” His voice became a whisper. “Your Level.”

  She knew what he had said. What he was saying. “Don’t you trespass on me, Likaan,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “If you truly aren’t playing a trick.” No one knew her skills. True, her mother knew some. It was essential for guidance and personal growth. But not even mother knew her Age skill. Well, skills. Not even mother knew her Level. And while the right skillset might be able to divine some of that information, there’s no skill in this world capable of revealing an Age skill. It was simply impossible. Because an Age Skill isn’t a skill, at all. It’s an ability. And not even an ability in that sense. It’s innate. Some say predestined. Some say you’re born with your Age skills. They are part of you. Fundamentally. Always there, merely waiting until the day they are release from their bondage. What Likaan was showing was power beyond measure. The ability to peel back the flesh, to sift through the labyrinth of self, and lay bare one’s soul. Lillia felt safe no longer. She was naked. Unable to clothe against Sovereign’s Sight.

  “Your Kindling. Alchemical Botany, and The Guiding Hand.” Likaan’s eyes blazed. His countenance frightening. “You have two Kindling’s. How do you have two?”

  Lillia was frozen. She had never before feared her brother. But she was afraid.

  Then Likaan seemed to notice his sister’s fear, and he closed his eyes, bowing his head as his expression softened. After a moment he spoke, his voice gentle. “Lillia.” He looked up with the eyes that belonged to him. “This is my secret. Please, tell me yours.”

  Lillia sniffled and wiped at her eyes. For several minutes she did not speak for fear of breaking the damn. She stood breathing. Slow, deep breaths. Over and over. And then she replied, “On my eighth year I received my Kindling. Alchemical Botany. But it came with a passive ability attached to it. The Guiding Hand.” She placed a finger to one nostril, closing it, and blew hard, expelling a torrent of mucus from the other. And after repeating the procedure, wiping her nose on her shirt, she continued. “It’s called an Orison. They’re supposedly only bestowed on those with the god’s favor. So says superstition.”

  Likaan cocked his head slightly. “You don’t believe it’s a gift from the gods?”

  Lillia scoffed and smiled despite herself. “Don’t tell me you believe in the gods, Likaan.”

  He smiled. “I’m not so sure I can discount the possibility anymore. Here you stand with two Kindling’s. Of the same blood, here I stand with a rankless Endowment. My eyes see all I focus on. I can look at you and know you. I can see your future. I can see your past. To a degree, anyway. My eyes need not concern themselves with distance, or barriers. They can pierce the mightiest of magics. This I can sense. And then there’s Mother. Of the same blood. Three Age skills. Each more powerful than the last. Her Level is higher than I thought was possible. Her Kindling lets her level thrice as fast. Her Endowment gave her the powers of understanding. The ability to divine knowledge. Of anything. She need merely wonder. And all of the answers will flood her brain. And her Glamour? You think my endowment is terrifying? Mother’s Glamour is monstrous. It lets her kill. She can take the life of any person she thinks of. Thinks of, Lillia. Anywhere. At any time. No Limit. No limits of any kind.” Likaan noticed Lillia’s eyes widen further and further as he spoke.

  Lillia didn’t know how to process the things she was hearing. She didn’t know what to respond to first. It was all so unfathomable. “Thrice as fast? That can’t be right,” Lillia said disbelieving. “That could put her over eighty. She could be nearly ninety. That can’t be right, Likaan.”

  “Can’t it?”

  “Our mother can’t be a Level ninety housewife.” She had raised her voice.

  “Can’t she?”

  “Look at where we live! Why would we live like this? Why would we stagnate at such a lowly station, in such a poverty stricken, asshole of a village? Why would she do that to us? Why do that to father? Letting him think it’s all on him to keep us fed. Letting him work himself to death. When there is work. A Level ninety anything could live anywhere. Do anything. I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it.”

  “It's true, in any case. Since I received my Endowment, as I adjust, I am perceiving many things. And I’m rapidly starting to think about things differently. And there are things I will need to discuss with you. Urgent, dreadful things. But not until tonight. First, we have my celebration.”

  “Well, hold on—"

  “Not now, Lillia.”

  “Just wait a second, Likaan.”

  Likaan’s eyes began to shine again. “Your sovereign has spoken.”

  Lillia hit him square in the jaw.

  “Ow!” Likaan cradled his face.

  “You’re such an idiot, Likaan. It would seem your supposed omniscience has a blind spot.”

  “Yea, well, you’re a beast.”

  “Promise me you won’t look at me with those eyes again, Likaan. Ever again. Promise me.”

  He replied hesitantly, “In some ways I’ve already seen all. In others I have not. But you have my word that once you meet the vagabond, I will no longer directly transgress the borders of your self. Although, where your path intersects with other’s, it cannot be helped.”

  “Why are you talking like that? What do you mean when I meet the vagabond? Who’s the vagabond? What do you know, Likaan? What do you mean intersects with other’s?”

  “Lillia, I know this might be asking too much right now, but I need you to trust me. I need you to tell me you trust me, and I need you to mean it. Do not ask what I know. Because only I can see the strands. Simply know that I know. Go with the Vagabond.”

  “How can you expect me not to ask questions?”

  “Please, Lillia.”

  Lillia huffed, relenting. Then she had a curious thought. “Likaan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Since we’re on the subject, what was your Kindling?”

  “You’ll laugh.” Likaan rubbed at his jaw.

  “I’m not really in a laughing mood.”

  “It’s called Spring of Charisma. It’s a unique ability type in that it has both passive and active utility. I gained a permanent boost to my Charisma, obviously.” He grinned at Lillia, though she did not return it. He continued, rolling his eyes. “I am also able to be more intentional with my Charisma and I can direct it. Whether on an area, or an individual. Making my target more susceptible. I have been disappointed with my Kindling from the moment I received it. Thinking it weak, if not occasionally useful in certain situations.” He sniffed. “Now, though, paired with my Endowment, I finally see its potential. I will be somebody, Lillia. Mark my words.” Likaan looked into Lillia’s eyes. “You asked me if I believe in the gods. Well, whether they’re real or not, there’s something I’m more interested in.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Who are we?”