“The guilt you’ve carried all these years, the hell that lives inside your mind, has grown like rot inside of you. Vaelora, poor Vaelora.” Cadavros’s voice was a distant sound beneath the thud of blood pulsing in Zevander’s ears. “The father you couldn’t save. The mother and siblings you couldn’t protect. And Theron. She killed him when he spoke for you, when he willingly chose torture to ensure your freedom, and your mind cannot forgive you for it. The absence of vivicantem brought it to life with such scathing clarity that you can’t even face it.”
