“You made these words, you bound them to your being and offered our ancestors power through the use of them, all the while cursing them for not keeping your twisted promise,” I said icily. “And now they will be your downfall.” “Impossible,” Clydinius hissed, eyes turning to two bright, white glows of fury. “The words were forged by my tongue. I possess them, not you weak creatures of fragile mortality.”
