“Then let it be precedent.”
He stepped aside. Behind him, a door of white light opened onto Venn’s own world—the salt flats, the dawn, the air clean and free. DV-s The Skaafin Prize
“Stop,” he whispered.
He thought of his sister’s final whisper. Don’t forget me. “Then let it be precedent
“The DV-s contract is binding,” Venn said. “Complete your Trials. Claim your Prize. I’ve done three already.” He thought of his sister’s final whisper
He stood at the edge of the Obsidian Galleries, a cavern of polished volcanic glass that reflected his own scarred face back at him a thousand times. Somewhere in these echoing halls waited the Prize—and the one creature who could grant it.
On the salt flats, Venn knelt and pressed his palm to the ground. For the first time in years, he said their names aloud: the sister, the rebels, the lover. All of them. None of them.