The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) by Travis Simmons

moment. “Being that, all things, corporeal and incorporeal, possess wyrd which the sorcerer calls to himself and uses.”
    “So you are saying that we draw on energies around us to work our wyrd?” Joya asked, and for the first time she was stunned at how many times, in ordinary life, she used the word wyrd to mean many different things. She had used wyrd to mean her destiny, wyrd as energy being worked, wyrd as mystical, and also as life forces.
    “Now you see how often it is used and none really understand fully what it means. Wyrd is not something that can be explained so simply to the uneducated because they do not understand the mechanics of it. Yet to a wyrder the word is able to be understood, to be fathomed.” He was silent for some time as she continued to think. Finally he answered her question: “Yes, we draw on the energies around us to work wyrd.”
    “Yet when I worked my wyrd all those times before it was not something that was from outside me; instead it felt as though the wyrd welled up from deep inside me,” Joya argued with conviction.
    “Yes, it can seem like that when another force is teaching you to use wyrd by using your body. Wyrd is definitely drawn from other than yourself, though when you are untrained it can be difficult to discern where it truly comes from. Rest assured once you realize how to draw on it you will feel a slight difference in the way it comes to you, but that is only because you will be looking for the difference. You will understand then and feel how it is different because you will know that it is different.”
    To Joya that made perfect sense.
    “Well if everything is possessed of wyrd then I should be able to use my own to work, shouldn’t I?” she asked, and the voice paused for a moment.
    “No,” he answered finally.
    “Why not?”
    “There are many reasons, one of which is that no single being has enough wyrd to work the way sorcerers do, so you will need to draw on resources to work. Another reason is that tapping into your own wyrd will tire you faster than tapping on those around you. Both methods will tire you, but using your own wyrd, even only a little, will tire you much faster than drawing on that around you.”
    Joya considered for a time.
    “So when do I learn to draw on wyrd?” she asked with wide-eyed interest.
    “Patience, my dear. You will learn tomorrow all about sensing the wyrd in other things and also how to draw on it. For now you must rest; you have been through many things, and there are yet many more things left for you ahead. Rest tonight, for tomorrow night you might not get much.”
    And with that darkness once more stole over Joya as the voice of wisdom and his light left her.
     

T he morning dawned cool and dull with a heavy mist hovering over the forest floor. Insubstantial light trickled in through the canopy of leaves and needles to shine golden-green on the moss, glowing off the haze that clung to the ground and trunks. Birds could be heard twittering lazily in the cool morning light, not wanting to leave their nests, but hunger demanding their flight. Grace felt much the same as the birds, wishing nothing more than to find herself in a comfortable bed with unburdened hours to sleep away. Instead she found herself here, tracking down a youth that had been kidnapped by a former friend, now a hated enemy.
    She groaned as bits and parts of her aged body protested her movements in a symphony of cracks and pops. Finally she righted herself with a balled up fist in her lower back. Days were not getting any easier on her, that was for sure, and at her age how could they? She supposed they would only get worse before they got better.
    As she was normally the first to rise, Grace was a little distressed when she saw that Maeven and Jovian’s bed rolls were already empty, and with a frown she went to tend the horses, making awful childish noises at the steeds as she watered and fed them. Patting each on the head, she brushed them