The old man stared down at the park thoughtfully, heedless of the incoming fire, then nodded once, held out a fist, spoke a word, and gathered a sphere of white-hot light into the palm of his right hand. He flicked his wrist, and the sphere of light streaked over to the park and set the nearest tree there violently ablaze. Octokongs screamed and poured out of it—to where they were well-lit by the fire on open ground. The Einherjaren let out whoops of excitement and approval as their weapons roared, absolutely withering every octokong on the ground. “Do it again, seidrmadr!”
Ebenezer.
