Nyaxia is far away, floating up in the heavens as if observing the amusing consequences of her latest gift. But one can always feel a god’s eyes. And Nyaxia looks directly at him that night. He can feel her stare like a blessing, a curse, an iron stake nailing him to a destiny he does not want. And she smiles—a cruel, beautiful, devastating sight. He tries to tell himself that he does not sense what changes in this moment. He tries to tell himself that he imagines the dizzying, disorienting burst of power through his veins. He tries to tell himself that the sudden shock of pain up his spine is
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