Jain Zar: The Storm of Silence

‘Deserve,’ he said quietly. ‘Power I deserve.’
He nodded towards the other’s farseer’s belt and at his thought her pouches opened, spilling out the numerous wraithbone runes from within. They spiralled up around Daensyrith, her face a mask of shock – a seer’s runes were mind-bound to them, supposedly answering only to their thoughts.
‘Power is relative, Daensyrith.’ Eldrad stood up and laid down the moonlyre. ‘How many of these runes did I first discover? You brought the wisdom of Morai Heg? Superstition and blind flailing compared to the precision I have brought to our craft. One might as well mould raw clay into a lump and call oneself a sculptor to make comparison to your efforts in scrying. I have led us to new vistas of understanding. I have taken us on roads undreamt of by the mumbling oracles of Gal-Shathoth and Biel-Tanigh.