Adom stared at his friends.They'd come to help him. And this was the result.His fingers twitched as he began to weave an illusion spell. If he could create a distraction, maybe the barrier would—A cool, bark-textured hand settled on his shoulder. "Do not," the silver-birch dryad said quietly.The woman outside smiled. "A wise decision," she said. "You are at a stage in your development, Adom Sylla, where you cannot best me in a battle of magic."Adom froze. His true name. Not just "Adom," but his full name—Adom Sylla. He glanced at his friends, then at the dryads, then back to the woman who'd spoken a name he'd told no one in this realm."Do not look so alarmed," the woman said, her smile widening slightly. "I knew of you long before you were born. And your true name's knowledge will not be of much help to me, knowing you have mental defenses that dear Law prepared you for by now."Adom didn't respond with shock this time.Instead, pieces began clicking into place. In a world where a few individuals were talented enough to look into the future and single out one individual—to track the path they would take—it made sense that she might have divination powers. It made sense that, just like Law, she had peered into the future. It made sense that she might have anticipated this moment as well.During the eight months following the Crown Prince's fall, Adom had attempted to understand and master divination. It had been frustrating, bordering on humiliating.Because among all the paths of magic, divination was the most unfair.See, other paths—runecology, alchemy, battle magic, druidism, and so on—could be difficult, sure, but they were democratic in their difficulty.Adom, for instance, had always been adept with runes, which is why he'd chosen that path in his first life. But even for those not born with innate talent, progress (...)