"Rebecca Neason - 13th Scroll 02 - The Truest Power" - читать интересную книгу автора (Neason Rebecca)woman walking alone, save for the wolf’s company. There could have been danger behind
every tree or around any bend in the road. Instead, she had encountered only honesty and beauty as she traveled. When she did reach Ballinrigh and faced the one truly dangerous moment of her journey, the place of sanctuary at hand contained the one person she needed to find. If those two men had not tried to attack and rob her— gaining only the protective fury of a wolf for their troubles— she might have wandered the streets of Ballinrigh until, money gone, she was forced to abandon her search without ever finding Renan or discovering why she was there. But she had found Renan. He alone, of all the city’s inhabitants, had known what she did not—who she was and the purpose behind her presence there. He revealed to Lysandra the Thirteenth Scroll of Tambryn and explained to her what it meant. But that was not the greatest gift he had brought to her life. Although it seemed so at the time, Lysandra now knew that what Renan had truly given her was love. Somewhere, somewhen, along their difficult journey, helpful stranger had turned to friend—and friendship had blossomed into that rarest flower of true and everlasting love. The dark wall behind which she had hidden the deepest part of herself, where she had once believed it would and must always remain, had crumbled bit by bit. But the pieces, so long in place, had not come easily down. It was not until she had to battle her way back from the depths of dark magic cast by their enemy, back into the light of rife again, that she had finally let the wall around her heart tumble. Within the Light that had become her chosen reality, no Darkness—of magic or of serf—could survive. But Renan was still a priest; the love Lysandra felt for and from him would remain unspoken. Lysandra told herself that did not matter. Love existed—and the friendship, which they could share, was all the deeper for it. Eiddig, the aged Guide and leader of the Cryf, the forgotten beings who lived in their wondrous Realm beneath Aghamore’s mountains and whose souls were as beautiful as their appearance was strange. Their name meant the Strong, and that is what they were— possessed of amazing strength in their compact, hair-covered bodies and, above all, strong in their belief of the One whom they called simply the Divine. No one had demonstrated this strength more surely than Talog, the young City-Guide-in-Training who had left the underground-Rearm to travel with Lysandra and Renan as they searched for Selia. While all of the Cryf had impressed Lysandra with the faith and the compassion that created their amazing, harmonious society, none had done more than Talog. Terrified to travel Upworld, as the Cryf called the surface land of Aghamore, and in physical pain from the brightness of the sun he had never before seen, Talog had proved himself invaluable time and again. Lysandra knew they would never have succeeded in finding or getting Selia to safety without him. And there was Selia herself. She, too, had helped heal Lysandra in ways the older woman was still discovering. Both the Thirteenth Scroll of Tambryn and the Holy Words of the Cryf named Selia the Font of Wisdom. When their minds had touched that first time, Selia’s own gifts—unrecognized and unwanted by the girl—had served as a catalyst to unlock Lysandra’s undiscovered potential. Together, they had been able to banish the Darkness that had so nearly destroyed Lysandra and bring her back into life again. It was then that Lysandra’s Sight, that wondrous inner vision that had allowed her to live and function as a healer through all the long years of solitude, had blossomed. But for nearly ten years, her Sight had come and gone of its own accord, and though she had learned to use it, she could find no way to control it. Nor was what the Sight revealed the same as physical vision. There were moments |
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