Dayraven’s body lay on the floor of Urd’s home, and nearby lay Imharr and Urd. Like a vapor caught in a breeze, he floated through the roof of the turf-covered mound and rose above it. His consciousness expanded so much that he became insubstantial as he mingled with the night air. The oaks outside in the darkness awaited him, and the wind hissing in their leaves was the voice of the land speaking to him in a slow and ancient language. As he drifted through the oaks and felt the centuries of quiet strength in their rough flesh and the quickening of life in their leafy veins, the voice of the
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