Naaros Rising (cont')

The Magnakai Storm Raven lay awake in his new quarters. The dream had come to him again, the dream about the city in the mountains. The empty city made all of sapphire and of amethyst. . . .

Storm Raven was a Mentora--a Mentora who didn’t teach; and for that reason was he frowned upon by junior and senior ranks alike. Worse, he had made a decision which no one--least of all himself--could fathom. He had decided to advance no further in the Magnakai Disciplines, content to remain Mentora--the Mentora who refused to teach.

What will you do with your skills, eh? a superior had asked of him. You progress no further; you couldn’t wield a weapon to defend yourself, let alone anybody else. You won’t even pass on what knowledge you’ve gained! What do you think you’re called a "Mentora" for?

Mentora. Mentor.

And he didn’t know what he wanted to do, and it was true that he was barely able to use a weapon. He had achieved the rank of Mentora through his power of intellect rather than of body. Enrollment in the Kai Order was compulsory for every Baron’s heir; Storm Raven had not asked for it.

He thought a moment of his mother, Madelon, who had borne him in her forty-eighth year, on the day of Feast of Fehmarn. The one that approached would mark his twenty-eighth birthday.

The day that the First Order was massacred. . .

Storm Raven turned onto his side. In time he found sleep again, and dreamt of the city in the mountains.

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