The pale man spoke several words Jeffery had never heard in his life, and hearing them made his ears burn. Nyareh, etraena, saristolo! A great cloud of mist erupted from the man’s fingertips, filling the room. Then, suddenly, all the mist seemed to implode, only to stop midway and form the shape of two small spheres that floated downward and landed in the man’s outstretched palms.

“These,” the man said quietly, “are seeing spheres. They let you see certain points in the future, but they only can be used once.” Jeffery was speechless. His mind was still registering what had happened. “It must have been a trick of some kind,” Jeffery thought to himself. “There’s no way that could’ve actually happened. It’s like-” “Magic,” the man said aloud. Jeffery was starting to become scared. Was he truly a sorcerer? Was he truly a descendant of one of the Four? The man moved closer to Jeffery, crossing the path of the beams of moonlight. As he did, Jeffery finally had the chance to gaze upon the face of his captor.