More than a month had passed since Lumberling began studying the Concordia Cycle under Vaenyra's guidance.
And yet, despite all his effort, it still eluded him.
He sat cross-legged on the mossy floor of the glade, hands resting lightly on his knees, aura barely flickering as he cycled his essence through the Concordia pattern. His breathing was steady, but the spiritual flow was jagged, inconsistent, like trying to draw water through a cracked vessel.
Vaenyra stood nearby, arms crossed, silent as the moonlight filtering through the leaves. She'd been watching him for some time now.
Finally, she spoke, her tone as frank and cold as mountain spring water.
"I don't think the mage path is for you."
Lumberling didn't stop the cycle, but he did open one eye and glance at her. "Hmm? What makes you say that?"
