“Your father was a Shaman.”
Tiuri stared at his mother, imploring her to continue. This was the first time she talked about his birth father without any prompting.
She held up a green talisman, letting the fire’s glow shine on it.
“This was his. He wore it everyday. It might help you with the voices.”
Tiuri reached out his small 6 year old hands, letting his mother drop the talisman into them.