Rowan did not think that what he absorbed next could be called memories; instead, they were more like snapshots, and if not for the voice of Lumen in the background, he would be confused with the information slamming into his head.
He groaned and almost fell to his knees. He felt as if he were a mortal again, and every snapshot of memory was like someone was bashing his skull with a hammer. Rowan gritted his teeth and flowed with the blows, adapting to brace against them as they came.
His feet were spread wide, and his eyes had gone red, with bright veins of light radiating from the fist that had grabbed the feather from the wings of Lumen, from the glowing veins that were growing all over his body; it was as if the blood in his veins was slowly transforming into light.
