“Help you do what?”
“Make sure he and his cronies don’t start the war again,” Zafar said. His tone was cagey and hinted of unsaid things.
“How do I do that?”
“Fight against him.”
“I managed to keep a woman from being crushed by a barrel by the skin of my teeth. How does that make me remotely qualified to prevent a war?” Nev braced his elbows on his knees.
“You have no idea what you are, do you?”
“I am tveir. I was created, not born. I exist to serve…I exist to provide energy for a mage’s magic.” Nev was so tired, and this all felt so hopeless.
“Although you may be used for those functions, that is a severe underutilization of what you are. You aremagic, a literally embodiment of magic in a human form. You could tap into ley line energy and use it without the limitations imposed on a normal mage. You could probably weave the spells of many into a single one. You are a weapon, and as far as I can tell, a completely untrained one.” Zafar’s expression was a deep frown.