Chapter 26 – Of Echoes and Echochambers
Raen didn't sleep that night—not that the Threadrift cared much for sleep. The concept of night here was vague, bent around memory and the will of things older than suns. Still, he tried.
Ashveil stood watch by the broken archway, antlers gently radiating emberlight. Keir snored half-curled on a floating piece of masonry, muttering in his dreams about "sword taxes" and "boredom revolutions."
Raen leaned against the edge of a sky-root, feeling the warmth of flame-creatures flicker near his veins.
Summoning beasts from memory. That kind of power... it felt wrong.
Or rather, it felt too right.
As if the world had been waiting for him to remember who he was—and hated him a little more for doing it.
"You ever feel like everything you gain just digs the hole deeper?" he asked quietly.
Ashveil turned his head slowly.
"All growth is erosion, in time. Even the forest forgets the roots that birthed it."
Raen snorted. "You're chatty for a deer."
"You're broody for a murderer."