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Eithan had descended from the heavens in search of companions. Suriel didn’t fight alone, and she had encouraged him to seek out Yerin and to fight alongside the others. Clearly, no amount of power was worth moving forward alone. He had chosen to believe it. So he chose to continue believing. Dross wiped an imaginary tear from beneath his eye. [It’s every parent’s dream to see their little boy grow into such a fine young Dreadgod.] “You’re not my parent.” [Well, I don’t like your parents, so I choose to replace them.]
“I have received more help than anyone in the universe. Even most of my power is stolen. There’s nothing noble about doing everything yourself. You just have to do your best to honor the help you’ve gotten.”
When she saw him, she sagged into the wall, bracing herself on one hand. “Thank the Line.” She kissed the wall, which Ziel assumed was a superstitious gesture. [That, or she really likes this building,] Dross suggested.
“He’s already cleaned it up a lot,” Fury said. “I’m sure by this time next year it will look like a golden hairbrush.”
Lindon tried not to look around too obviously, but he had at least one more long-overdue reunion. “Where’s—” “Did someone say, ‘Where’s Eithan?’” Eithan cried. He popped out literally from nowhere, his white hair standing in stark contrast to his black armor. [Not yet,] Dross pointed out. Eithan beamed at Lindon, holding him by the shoulders and looking him up and down. “Well, well, that’s a fine pair of Icons you have there. Ozmanthus Arelius would be proud, may his name live in eternal handsomeness. And what an aesthetic you’ve chosen! You know I do love bright colors, but there’s something
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[We brought them along!] Dross said brightly. [All of them who wanted to come, anyway. Some of them had ‘lives’ and ‘families.’]
But he was very curious. “You know so much about me,” Lindon said carefully, “but I know very little about you. Would you mind telling me about yourself? If you’re willing, of course.” Suriel gave him a smile he hoped was fond. “It will have to be the short version for now. We have very little time before Ozriel interrupts us.” Lindon nodded eagerly, listening with rapt attention. The Phoenix spoke, and Lindon learned. And all the while, a blue candle-flame burned merrily between them.
“How do you read other books without you in it?” “I don’t.” Eithan held up a book with his own smiling face on it. “There’s only one other story worth reading. From Conditioner to Executioner: A Story of Hair Spray and Spraying Blood – The Eithan Arelius Story, Collected Edition.” “That sounds…uh, fascinating. I’ll have to get a copy one day.” “You have one! Check your pocket.”
