At last, Acaeja said, “Very rarely, there are souls that, no matter the thread, become the continuation of each other’s tales. Perhaps Mische Iliae meets you in the Shadowborn castle. Perhaps she meets you in the underworld. Perhaps she meets you upon the battlefield of a divine war. Perhaps she meets you by chance in a library, or a garden, or a city street.” In her wings, countless different lives blossomed—countless different versions of myself, and different versions of Mische, our threads intertwining.
