He was a story; he had proven that when he had taken the impossible ice sword and driven back our enemy with the ease of breathing, his blade flashing too quickly for me to follow it. I’d had no idea he was capable of something like that—magic, yes. Displays of physical skill, the sort of skill that requires training and effort? No. Since that night, I feel as if the ground has altered slightly beneath the two of us, as if I cannot see him from precisely the same angle I used to.
