Tho’ Lion’s Son reclaims the blade

So too is spurned the futhark’s glade…

Elan knew. She and Vahldan shared a connection. Vahldan had always longed for the sea, but from the moment he laid his eyes on it, their connection revealed more than his marvel in its beauty. Elan also sensed his realization. Vahldan had been awoken to potential. He instantly grasped the possibilities in the wealth of the stone cities that lined Pontea’s shores. Even then, Elan knew that their lives would be forever changed They were both right, of course. The Amalus did well as hired mercenaries, sailing with the smuggler Malvius. Their success exceeded their wildest dreams.

Through all of their years abroad, Elan longed for the glades of Dania, longed to have her daughter accepted by the tribe that had banished her. Vahldan’s aspirations for Dania grew into something beyond a desire to restore balance to the futhark. Elan sensed his thirst for power. Power in pursuit of justice, yes, but also power in the name of vengeance. Vahldan longed for dominion over those who had stood by while his father was ousted and then murdered.

Elan knew Vahldan kept another secret: he longed for something else that could only be found in Dania. They almost never spoke of the girl born to the seeress, fathered by the wolf lord. Elan knew the daughter of such a union could provide the key to the glory Vahldan sought. Glory that would deliver the sort of power for which he yearned.

‘Yond rock and vale his fame is sought

Kingdoms quail as empire’s wrought…

Vahldan had seized his title as Lion Lord of the Amalus. But it was not enough. He sought glory where it was best found—in war. Elan had once been foolish enough to hope that Vahldan could become the Bringer of Urrinan. Now she knew better. She’d learned to fear the power his foretold destiny bestowed.

Elan knew. She sensed that Vahldan of the Amalus had become more than capable of leading her people to the catastrophe that Urrinan required of its Bringer.