Sublime

I have a young nephew, one Rashek.

Ribbons of it exploded from him,

Above Yerin’s head, a pile of treasure appeared: scales of every color heaped over natural treasures, all shining with madra and aura in a chaotic rainbow.

“She’s at least a Misting,

But expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.

foundry

Maybe too formidable. Though he hadn’t told his mother everything he’d installed, she could potentially take over most civilized lands using only her drudge.