All my years remaining I’d trade for the Owl’s eyes, the Owl’s wisdom. I am a fool without her. We took the northern pass above Kilkaen that night to track the stars, myself and a handful of scholars who I could pry from the evening fires. There were such omens in the constellations that evening that a thousand sticks of charcoal were spent on paper.

I heard the rustle of her wings too late, her warning eye I ignored and as rolling angry clouds filled the sky we stood agape and upset like petulant children that our canvas was covered. The first stones to rain down were no larger than a grain of rice and they peppered the scholars and made them run. Then more and as I heard the fury of a thousand storms build I watched as stones as large as the Caer’s towers itself streak across the blackness above us and slam into the earth.

Only three of us walked down the paths that night and we returned to a nightmare I could never imagine. Truly we are banished from her wisdom if we missed these portents. I am stuck here in this place, a punishment for my ignorance. I only hope one day those omens are recovered on the northern passes.

– Malcolm Perri, Astrologer to the High Rivershear Council.