Petros looks at his future brother-in-law, and back to his sister. They’re obviously in love and Petros couldn’t be happier for her. He hears his mother’s voice in his head, telling him how great the island is, and just to make sure that Ianthe doesn’t miss anything from home. Ia wolfs down popcorn and he smiles.
He meets a whole contingent from the temple of Dolora and gets caught up in their excitement. He recieves a blessing from Reyland, and for the second time he’s uncomfortable with prayer.
Petros squares up against a bard, his muscles aching from the electricity that had just coursed through them. He considers healing himself, but instead casts a curse. The next thing he remembers is one of his opponents pulling him up from the ground. Next time, he’ll be more free with his healing spells – and he will drop his enemies before they have a chance to hit him.
This is fun. Every fight he gets a little smarter and a little better. It’s like working out a muscle he didn’t know he had. In the next fight, his group unleashes everything they have at their objective. It’s over in a matter of seconds and he exults.
He spots someone suspicious, someone his group had been looking for. He trusts Sabiya to gather more information them down and report back honestly. Is it trust? Trust just might be the right word.
Another fight. The group works well together, making quicker and smarter decisions. He’s starting to feel his way through battles, his senses, spells, and reactions all blending together.
He takes a moment to catch his breath. The last traces of nausea from that strange spell sweep through his body. As it fades, he hears Ariyra yell. He turns to see an expanding light before his vision clears and his heart leaps into his throat.