By the time Owyn collapsed into his bed, he was lightheaded from mana-deprivation and more than a little exhausted in his body. He was too tired to even take off his clothes as he just lay there on his stomach.
He'd learned a lot about mana circulation but almost nothing about the mysterious Attika and why Arc wasn't supposed to behave like her.
"She's one of our daughters. The eldest," Ferro had said. "But she made some bad choices, and so we keep her here."
The weight of his words had indicated there was far, far more, but Owyn didn't want to pry. For one thing, it would be rude, and for another, he suspected Arc might tell him if he asked. The intensity of her emotions told him a lot. That perhaps, like some of the Chief's other children, she compared herself to the firstborn. All of the children in his village had grown up being compared to Aban.
