He remembers, again: Emilia, Wrath. Returned like ashes scoured from a brazier. The volcano released them tattered, worn. He watches Wrath now and sees a spectre of possibility, a force that might exceed Wangji's own but can still — dim.
Even the sun wanes, fat in a lone sky. Growth is an accelerated process of not thirty summers. Beyond, regression reigns. Limitations. Depletion. When they nearly brush coral, he thinks all, at once, Death.
"Will you survive descent?" Certainly, Wrath assumes so. And yet, there is the sharp knife of a woman who waits for him, and Lan Wangji owes her better than allowing her intended to pursue his madness. Pride pushes men past their natural instincts of preservation. Why should Wrath prove different?
"The volcano took toll of you, only weeks past." Another call on Wrath's powers? How formidable must they be, to seem interminable? "We need not solve all mysteries at any cost."
no subject
Even the sun wanes, fat in a lone sky. Growth is an accelerated process of not thirty summers. Beyond, regression reigns. Limitations. Depletion. When they nearly brush coral, he thinks all, at once, Death.
"Will you survive descent?" Certainly, Wrath assumes so. And yet, there is the sharp knife of a woman who waits for him, and Lan Wangji owes her better than allowing her intended to pursue his madness. Pride pushes men past their natural instincts of preservation. Why should Wrath prove different?
"The volcano took toll of you, only weeks past." Another call on Wrath's powers? How formidable must they be, to seem interminable? "We need not solve all mysteries at any cost."