“Don’t bear it. Let it go. It’s broken, let it be broken,” he said. “You have to let the broken go, so you can begin again. That is the cycle, isn’t it? Winter to spring. Death to life, old to new.” “I won’t be able to put it back together,” Naime said into her hands, which were fisted against his chest, her head resting next to them. “Let go of it.” He hugged her tighter, and tendrils of his magic encircled her, shadow and smoke, whispering about rest and peace. “Break,” he commanded. “I’ve got you.”
