The scorched weed stood, accusing, before them.
“Show me what you drew, exactly.” Melja’s voice was more serious than Einarr had ever heard.
Einarr peered at the base of the weed, searching for his mark, but in their haste to stop the blaze it had been obscured. “It was sol, with five points. I will confess that the job was growing tedious, but…”
“Enough. I know what happened now. This is why it is critical to draw each rune with care, each and every time. Sol, drawn with four lines, becomes a pair of kaun, stacked atop each other, if not properly connected.”
“Kaun? That’s not one I’ve learned yet.”
“It is not, and that makes this partially my fault. Finish the weeding by hand today. Tomorrow we shall learn kaun, and the day after I will teach you some syntax.”
Einarr felt no great…
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