The western gate buckled, iron screaming as it began to peel apart. He had to go—had to go down there to lead the fight at the gate. Where he’d make his last stand. Where he’d meet his end, defending the place he’d loved most. It was the least he could do, with all the warriors who had fallen thanks to him, to his choices. To fall himself for Terrasen. A death worthy of a song. An end worthy of being told around a fire. If in Erawan’s new world of darkness, flames would be allowed to exist.
