The Lords of Anavar
“His movements were sluggish and it proved difficult to recall his name without effort. Petyr Wolk kept spells surrounding him, influencing him, and testing the limits of his mind. He knew he must resist but he could not recall why. Wolk called to him several times before his words soaked into the mist surrounding Artus' mind. He heard Wolk's laughter and it angered him, but the anger did not last.
He saw shadows of people he did not recognize although some images brought stronger reactions than... others. He fought to find the memories and his mind ached. Sweat dripped off his chin; he felt feverish. An image of an old, old man, smiling, extending a hand came to him. Part of him yearned to reach out and grasp the hand yet another side of him, the side that Petyr Wolk's words could reach; that side repulsed the image of the man. Artus shook with frustration. Why did he not know these people? Why does Wolk hate him so much? He cried himself to sleep.
Artus awoke to a cool breeze, stretching his arms high overhead.MoreLess
He saw shadows of people he did not recognize although some images brought stronger reactions than... others. He fought to find the memories and his mind ached. Sweat dripped off his chin; he felt feverish. An image of an old, old man, smiling, extending a hand came to him. Part of him yearned to reach out and grasp the hand yet another side of him, the side that Petyr Wolk's words could reach; that side repulsed the image of the man. Artus shook with frustration. Why did he not know these people? Why does Wolk hate him so much? He cried himself to sleep.
Artus awoke to a cool breeze, stretching his arms high overhead.MoreLess
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