Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening, #1)

by Jonathan Renshaw

Any warmth now brought by the sun fled early, and when the night sky was clear, shallow pools that lay in the open reflected icy stars for only a brief spell before they froze into opaque tiles. But strollers who happened to tread too freely on one of these tiles would be given the chance to see stars of their own.

At first Aedan had thought this master to be similar to Osric, but he had learned that while Osric was a deep cavern of hidden thought and carefully directed power, Skeet was all immediacy and reaction. With him, annoyance felt was annoyance expressed.

Peashot struggled as much as everyone else, but showed a fanatical determination. He had watched the demonstration with trembling awe, the rapid twangs of the string clearly plucking a note that resonated in his heart.

That word, kneel, echoed again in his mind. In it rang not the groans of enslavement, but the song of freedom. He knew why. It was about belonging, the right kind of belonging. It was isolation that led to enslavement. He had discovered that.