The examinations had concluded. Rurik summoned the sixteen shamans, the Raven-Speaker among them. He did not speak at once. Instead, he sat behind his desk in silence, hands folded, eyes half-shuttered, waiting for one of them to offer an explanation worthy of his patience.
As both High Priest of the Temple and headmaster of the academy, the Raven-Speaker was the first to step forward. His appearance had changed markedly since the wild, blood-streaked days of the old rites. Gone was the feral look that once marked him; in its place, a sober dignity. He now wore a robe of plain black cloth, neat and unadorned. The strange tattoos that once coiled across his face had faded to faint shadows, and his hair—black, smooth, and straight—hung down his back, lending him a quiet air of gravity and mildness.
