Chapter 100: Permission to Burn
They sat at the table together; a quiet hush settled over the suite as if the world was holding its breath for them.
Trevor slid a plate toward Lucas—sliced fruit, toasted bread, and a soft-boiled egg in a porcelain cup. Nothing fussy, but it was warm and thoughtfully arranged, which made Lucas blink once and mutter something about not being royalty before Trevor cut him off with a fork pointed directly at his face.
"Eat. Or I’ll call Windstone and let him decide your portions."
Lucas took the toast immediately. "Tyrant."
Trevor only smirked, then took a sip of his coffee, watching him for a moment. When he spoke again, the teasing faded, replaced by something cooler, measured.
"I asked Windstone to pull the temple records."
Lucas paused mid-bite. "Why?"
Trevor leaned back in his chair, eyes sharp but unreadable. "You’re not the first. Others—years ago—woke from their ceremonies with memories. Of things that hadn’t happened yet. Lives they claimed they’d already lived. Most were dismissed. Some were silenced. But two of them? Two stopped disasters before they even started."
Lucas sat still.
Trevor continued. "One averted a canal failure that would’ve flooded three towns. Another outed an assassination plot weeks before it was enacted. The reports exist, but only if you know where to dig."
"And?" Lucas asked carefully.
"And they were both labeled anomalies. Buried. One disappeared a year after coming forward. The other was discovered dead in his home and was ruled to have died of heart failure, but Windstone has already discovered inconsistencies.