“I have always been afraid to dream. Afraid to be watched by gods who lurked in shadows. It was my greatest shame.” I looked over the Oarsman’s heaps of gold. “But now I see you with my eyes. You are not a dream. You’re just a man, paid like a king to playact as a god. A facade, hoarding wealth, yet claiming to starve. You have no love for Traum, its Stonewater Kingdom, nor for the people who call you hallowed. Your glory may come from Aisling, but it was earned by the dreaming, the drowning, of Diviners like me.”
Slay
