Chapter 38: A §trαnge New World
"Our friend Thancred: where is he?" Urianger demanded of Meteion.
"A strange question," Meteion said. "He is at your side, is he not? Oh yes. He is here, and there, and everywhere within this space. He would tell you himself if he had form to form words."
So she just, what? Scattered him?
"Huh. Such loathing and uncertainty…You don't know why you still exist. In like manner to the oblivion I send, I tried to drown out your aether with dynamis. Beginning with this Thancred, who came at me despite being unable to breathe. Such a simple thing, unmaking men. In the blinking of an eye, he was gone. Didn't even have the chance to be transformed. Yet somehow, he managed to leave a sliver of himself behind."
Then they could remake him. He slipped his hand into the pocket holding the Azem crystal and gripped it, reassured by its existence. They could bring him back.
The weight against his chest still lingered.
