When she turned away, it was not Aedion alone who had tears streaking down his face. She left them there. The cadre, the brotherhood, who now wished to say farewell in their own way. Fenrys, his bloodied face still untended, sank to a knee beside the table. A heartbeat later, Lorcan did the same. She’d reached the door when Rowan knelt as well. And began to sing the ancient words—the words of mourning, as old and sacred as Terrasen itself. The same prayers she’d once sung and chanted while he’d tattooed her.
