“You are a warrior, Seraphena. You always have been. Just like she learned to become.” Tiny bumps rose all over my skin. “No.” He shook his head. “You have had many names.” “No,” I repeated. “You have lived many lives,” he continued. “But it is that one, the first one, that Eythos remembered when he answered Roderick Mierel’s summons. He always remembered her.” Nyktos had once again gone deathly still. “You’re not saying what I think you are.” “I am.” “Eythos could be considered impulsive by many, but he was wise,” Holland said, sadness creeping into his eyes. “He knew what would come of
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