Forging Divinity Read Online Free PDF

purpose. Her presence was peculiar, indicating that a crime was most likely involved.
    “You heard anything yet?” Veruden asked Lydia, leaning against the table with both arms. In spite of many years in the queen regent’s service, he had never learned appropriate courtly manners. Lydia had a soft spot for him – he reminded her of Keras, one of the boys – now men, she supposed – that she had trained with.
    “No,” Lydia replied, shaking her head.
    Almost all of us are here, she considered. Peculiar.
    Lydia had heard that Istavan, the last of the five full sorcerers in the queen regent’s service, had been assigned to a diplomatic mission outside of the city. She had heard that it had something to do with Prince Byron’s upcoming coronation, but she didn’t have any details. She presumed it involved attempting to track down the potential assassins that had been discovered near Byron’s chambers. Regardless of his agenda, she did not expect to hear from him for weeks.
    Odd that the queen regent always sends Istavan on long-distance assignments, rather than Veruden. I’d think that she’d want Istavan here – he’s familiar with multiple types of battle sorcery – and Veruden only knows travel sorcery, as far as I know. Maybe she just trusts Istavan more. Veruden is a bit impulsive.
    In the many years since Orlyn had been freed from Xixian rule, sorcery had retained a degree of mysticism amongst the general populace. For centuries, sorcery had been the tool that was used by the most powerful Xixian nobility to keep their slaves in check. While slavery was illegal in modern Orlyn, sorcery was still considered an endeavor reserved for society’s elite. Sorcerous training was passed on directly from experienced practitioners to a small number of apprentices.
    The other major cities on the continent handled sorcery differently. Liadra and Selyr tested children for inherent talent at a young age, drafting them into mandatory training and military service if they demonstrated a significant degree of potential.
    In Velthryn, sorcery was largely controlled by the burgeoning merchant class, with sorcerous academies selling educations of varying degrees of quality to those wealthy enough to afford the privilege. Some degree of elitism remained among the highest degrees of Velthryn’s nobility, who proudly attributed their training directly to the city’s greatest masters.
    As a result of these cultural differences, Lydia estimated that the sorcerers in Orlyn numbered in the low hundreds, and the three who sat with her now were among the most influential. By contrast, Velthryn had hundreds of sorcerous students in their academes at any time and thousands of trained sorcerers in the city as a whole.
    “We have an invasion to plan for,” Sethridge said without any hint of emotion, his hands folded in his lap.
    Veruden shot Sethridge an uncharacteristic look of dismay. “We don’t know that for certain.”
    “What’s this about a potential invasion?” Lydia asked.
    “Those worthless zealots in Velthryn seem to be feeling the itch to expand their territory again.” Sethridge scowled, and Veruden raised his hands defensively in response.
    “Leaping at a conclusion there, Sethridge. He doesn’t even look like he’s from Velthryn.” Veruden leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.
    Morella ignored Veruden and Sethridge’s argument, looking straight to Lydia. “This morning, the city guard brought in a man for carrying a symbol of the Tae’os Pantheon.”
    Lydia nodded and the two men ceased their banter, turning to listen to Morella’s explanation.
    “Normally, this would be a minor issue. I don’t think you’ve had to deal with any cases like that yet, but we typically don’t even arrest people for Tae’os worship, even though it has been outlawed for over a century. We estimate at least a fiftieth of the population still worship the older gods, in spite of everything,” Morella continued. Lydia