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3268 AD
Standing in an archway of the main courtyard of Troit, capitol of Morvene, Nomar watched a small girl playing in the grass. Lying on the ground next to her was a golden-furred rantor whose eyes never left the child.
“He adores her,” observed the woman standing next to Nomar.
The child picked that moment to turn and look at him. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled. “And you as well does she adore.”
“Her father she should adore. As should her mother,” he added.
She gave him a gentle punch to the shoulder. “Who does. And she knows how lucky she is to have found you.”
He reached out and drew her to him. “Found me? You? It was but your good fortune my King sent me to Freemorn on a day you were there.”
“My good fortune think you it was?” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. “Of that I am sure.”
“My abilities tell me that is not so,” she responded and spun out of his grip. “Rather was it your great fortune to spy me that day.”
“It was,” he admitted. He held his hand out. She took it and came close to him again.
“She loves your aoutem,” she said.
He shook his heads. “I am a man. No aoutem of mine is he for I have no abilities or powers.”
“He is as close to you as any aoutem I have ever seen.”
“We are friends. He chose to stay with me.”
“He misses her,” she said, her voice low.
“You can tell?”
She nodded. “When he wants, Yar lets me know, or lets Sina know. Somehow they bonded.” She looked up just as a large treygone flew overhead, circled, and dropped down, to settle on the woman’s shoulder.
“Tell me Nylle, will our daughter be a Woman of Power?”
Nylle looked at the small girl, who was now pulling on Yar’s whiskers, and then back at Nomar. “All the women of our family become Women of Power.”
“I know.” He looked at the sky, and saw the sun had dropped low. “I leave tomorrow with King Leumas.”
“I have not forgotten. Do you think the rumors are true? The Dark Masters return?”
His smile was gentle. “Not in our lifetime. Perhaps in hers,” he said and gazed at his daughter, “But I hope not.”
“You are so certain, Nomar.”
“I am. On this you must trust me. They will not return, not soon.”
“Then my cousin, Leumas is wrong?”
“Not wrong, mistaken. But many black witches are there, and trouble they produce too easily. That is where we must be on watch. They will seduce the unwary, turn them into slaves.”
“As they did you.”
“As they did me.”
“I am glad my cousin saved you from them.”
“As am I.” He turned back to the courtyard. “Yar, bring Ailish.”
The rantor looked up at him, his amber eyes seemed to glow. Gently, he caught the back of the child’s garment, lifted her, and brought her to Nylle.
“Thank you, my friend,” he said to Yar, lifting little Ailish, and then settling her into his arms.
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