Rhosyn had not expected that question.
For the first time since Trafalgar had arrived, the calm around her cracked by a hair. She did not answer right away. Her black eyes rested on him, unreadable at first, while the wind combed through the high overlook and carried the distant hum of the city below.
The city stretched beneath them in layers of stone, glass, mana lamps, and moving lights, alive in the late hour, unaware that two Primordials stood above it speaking about something old enough to make cities feel temporary.
Destiny.
