During that lesson, Alimar made a comment on how impressed he was with Jaxom’s sword, but Jaxom now knew he had been very lucky in creating its enchantment. Jaxom had been surprised to discover that the shape and material of the object were an important part of how successful completing the enchantment was. The enchantment was one of the skills Alimar had taught him over the past few months.
After three hours of work, the stones could now animate four risen without the need for a death mage to provide a constant flow of magic. When he was finished, he replaced the stone then took a step back, looking over the row of four identical, chestnut-sized stones. Melding the power, he willed it to take form, creating a loop that drew more energy into itself then emitting that power back out. He knew time was passing but was only vaguely aware of it, concentrating solely on the task before him. Focusing his thoughts, he directed all the power he now contained into the small object. The stone’s many black surfaces shimmering in the candlelight. Picking it up, he ran his fingers along the hexagonal shape. Jaxom focused his eyes on a small stone that laid upon the wooden table in front of him.
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His black shirt clung to his skin as the damp air soaked through the cloth. He could see every crack and dimple in the grey stone of the walls, feel the cold draft rising from the floor beneath his boots. The power of death flowed from the room, a calming force that filled his body with its strength and sharpened his senses. I can never repay you for everything you have done, and I hope you never realize how much better you can do than me. You have been there since the beginning, telling me it was okay to follow my dreams. Without the express written permission of the publisherĮxcept for the use of brief quotations in a book review.įor my wife, who has never stopped believing in me. May not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
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