— Very well then, said Aranael in a neutral, smooth tone, as if nothing had just happened, as if the moments of suffocation, of extreme tension, of contained fear were nothing more than a draft in a well-sealed room.
Then she turned her unfathomable eyes toward me.
Two bottomless abysses. Two shards of silence that even the centuries no longer dared to disturb.
— It's your turn to choose now, Lukaris.
I didn't want to make her wait. Not a second. Not a breath. There was no room for hesitation, no space for slow reflection or deferred strategy. Something in me, older than thought, stronger than fatigue, took over — and guided me.
My body, though weakened, aching, drained by the intensity of this assembly, rose in one single motion. My mind, still trembling under Aranael's pressure, yielded without resistance, without fear, without retreat.
I spoke her name in total obedience, in solemn certainty, like a vow.
— Lysara.
The person behind me.
