Mraan puzzled over this, but kept any questions to himself until they stopped to rest some hours later. They were moving carefully through the woods, some distance from the road which led west. Twice they had stopped and hidden themselves as enemy patrols travelled upon the road noisily, apparently feeling no need for caution.
When it was time to rest, Haloch led his son to a place further away from and above the road, which afforded a clear view all around them. It was then that Mraan ventured a few questions.
‘I don’t understand what you mean when you say that the invocation must be undone. Doesn’t that mean that it has to be . . . well . . . unlearned, or unknown?’
Haloch brought some food from their packs, laid out some bread, meat, cheese, and wine. They ate for a few moments in silence as he kept an eye to the surrounding lands about them and considered his answer.
‘The Lore is not so much a knowledge as it is a record of our own conduct. The great mysteries contained therein remain forever beyond our ken. No one knows what magic is or why it works, for example, and what little we know is made apparent by the kind of things we do. In that sense, magic is not so much what we have discovered, but what the supernatural has chosen to reveal to us.