Sons of Ironstorm: Book 5 - Griffon's War

Hidden No Longer

Lawrence sighed as he leaned back and tucked the quill pen in his right hand back into its inkwell. A big hand then came up to scrub at a tired face, a vain attempt to push the fatigue back if just long enough for him to pen this letter to Aine that he'd been trying to write for nearly a turn of the big glass.

- Something troubles you, master, - the Tree's avatar said with a quiet, concerned voice.

"Aye," he said out loud, albeit in a low voice. "Something plucks at the edges of my awareness." Falling silent, he quickly stood before striding to the door to the small office in the heart of the main keep he had taken as his own. As was her habit, the Tree Staff lifted from where she had been sitting beside the desk to silently swing in behind him, staying a couple finger widths off his back in case he needed to don his Wielder armor in a hurry.

Feeling her move into place, Lawrence unconsciously nodded in satisfaction before stepping through the door and heading towards the staircase at the end of the short hallway that was home to the office. Thankfully the keep was open concept, with great spaces in the center holding map rooms, planning rooms, and the like. Hallways like this one lined those spaces and often opened a wall to them to overlook whatever the space was being used for. Such open design made it easy to navigate, even in the dark. It was proof that the ancients that built this place had a very good eye for practical layout.

And, being a son of Talemon, Lawrence had spent a good deal of time here, in the Storm Keep, and knew it like the back of his hand. So finding his way out of the main keep and into the surrounding courtyards was a task he could perform with his eyes closed. Which was what he was thankful for: with his mind consumed with that odd feeling at the edge of his awareness, he certainly wasn't putting any thought into where he was going.

Until, pushing a door aside, he found himself looking at his younger brother Shawn, cross legged, hands clasped together in his lap and hovering a good span off the floor of the office he had chosen as a sanctum for meditation.

"You seemed troubled, brother," the Wielder of the Star Sword said conversationally without opening his eyes.

Stepping inside, the older Ironstorm let the door close before he leaned up against the wall, arms folded. For her part, the Tree Staff silently moved to his right side, out of the way but close if he needed her.

"Have you ever had a feeling," Lawrence began, his chiseled features twisted into a frown. "One you just couldn't put a finger on? But, no matter what you did, it wouldn't just go away?"

"Oh, you mean that twisting on the edge of my awareness that I've had for the better part of a day now?" Shawn replied, a slight smile touching his lips though his eyes remained closed.

"Aye," Lawrence sighed. "That'd be the one. Any idea of what it might be?"

In response Shawn made a gesture and the Star Sword swung around from where it had been hovering near his back. As it approached the older Ironstorm, blade point down, it reoriented with a quick rotation to put the blade in a horizontal position, hilt to the right.

Lawrence frowned as he looked down at the bluish-silver plate with its strange transparency and found several of the incised tlyphs glowing with visible power.

"Find the one glowing the brightest," Shawn directed, still without moving. Locating it, Lawrence nodded.

"Got it."

"Then touch it."

Lawrence felt his brow lift of its own accord.

"I'm sorry?"

"Touch it," Shawn repeated.

The older Ironstorm stared at the serene Wielder of the Star Sword for a long moment, thoughts churning. Then, with a glance over at the silent Tree Staff, he reached out with a forefinger and lightly touched the brightly glowing symbol.