The Witch led Kael to a small pyre. Flames licked the sky, and the ashes carried the faintest scents of burnt wood and old memories. Kael practiced tracing the threads of past lives, the memories of the dead, and weaving them into coherent understanding.
It was difficult; each soul was layered, tangled with others, a web of emotion and experience. Kael learned to separate what was necessary from what was distracting, to pull meaning from the chaos without consuming. Each successful thread strengthened his control over the Sight and his own fractured self.
By nightfall, Kael could feel his own identity reasserting itself, yet he remained aware that mastery was fragile and would require constant vigilance.