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By Root 967 0

He’d heard the legends of mighty wizards traveling to the outer realms, but until he met someone who had actually done it, Daine would treat the stories like any other fable. Still, there was no denying that there were forces that had an influence on the world. Daine could still remember when Eberron aligned with Shavarath in the midst of the Last War—the storms of whirling blades that erupted in the midst of battles, shredding the warriors of both sides in a terrifying whirlwind of blood. His grandfather had spoken of the last conjunction with Dolurrh, the Realm of the Dead, and how the soldiers that fell in battle simply refused to die. While these conjunctions were rare and temporary, there were places in the world where the touch of the outer planes was always felt. Sharn was one of these. The bond to the plane of Syrania enhanced the powers of flight, and this supported the spells that prevented the vast towers from falling. Lamannia was said to be the heart of the natural world. Studying the strange tree-tower, Daine could see how it might fit into such a place.

“The buildings, the bridges …” Lei continued. “Some say he was mad, but there are a few artificers in House Cannith who believe differently. My father believed that Hareth’s Folly was designed according to a precise formula, that when the planes and moons come into a specific alignment, its true purpose will be revealed.”

She fell silent, a hint of sorrow crossing her features. She rarely mentioned her parents. They had lived in the Cyran capital of Metrol, and Daine knew that they had both died in the war some ten years ago. Lei had never spoken of the circumstances of their deaths, and Daine had not wished to pry. He let her reflect in silence and examined the streets around them. The inhabitants of Hareth’s Folly were almost as diverse as the buildings themselves. Daine could see travelers from every corner of Khorvaire who’d come to the Folly to participate in the games and spectacles of Sharn.

“Daine …” When Lei spoke again, her voice was soft and thoughtful. “Who gave you that sword?”

“A man named Grazen. An old friend, I told you.”

“A member of House Deneith?”

“Yes.”

“But … the soldiers of House Deneith give their allegiance to no nation. The house is founded on the principle of mercenary service. How could an heir of Deneith serve as an officer of the Sharn Watch?”

“He was in House Deneith. He left the house.”

Lei’s eyes widened. “You mean … he was excoriated? Like me?”

“I don’t think so. I think he chose to leave of his own free will.”

“I’ve heard of it happening, but … it’s just hard for me to imagine.”

“Really? Are the other members of your family such wonderful people? I could imagine getting tired of spending my life in the company of someone like Lord Jura.”

Lei shook her head. “You can’t understand, Daine. The house … it’s more than just a family. It’s the foundation of life. Being part of the house raises you above any nation, above any race. As a girl, I dreamed of the day that my mark would appear and allow me to be a part of the work of my house.” She stopped walking, her eyes glistening and thoughts far away. “Kings come and go. It is the dragonmarked houses that have shaped Khorvaire. Look at what Cannith has done in the last century alone. We gave birth to a new race.” She broke off and took a deep breath.

Daine put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be a part of a house to make a difference,” he said. “There’s the Twelve, the Arcane Congress—”

Lei pushed his hand aside, blinking back tears. “You don’t understand! It’s …” She reached up and rubbed the small of her back, just below her neck. Though it was usually covered, Daine knew that this was where her dragonmark was located. “It’s what I was born for. It’s who I am. How could anyone throw that away?”

Daine knew she didn’t really want an answer, but he couldn’t help it. “What about Jode?” he said. “How does he fit in with this?”

The question seemed to shock Lei out of her reverie. Jode made no efforts to conceal his dragonmark, yet he had never spoken of his