“But were you to succeed,” Glennis pressed, “who would you wish to be?” He didn’t know. Couldn’t conjure an image beyond empty darkness. Damaris, at his side, would have no answer, either. Dorian peered inward, feeling the sea of magic that roiled inside him. He traced its shape with careful, invisible hands. Followed a thread within himself not to his gut, but to his still-cracked heart. Who do you wish to be?
