Tonight, he would break it.
The truth was this: magic required fuel. And the fuel was pain. Blood Over Bright Haven
He stood in the Sump, the flooded underbelly of the city where the light never reached. The air tasted of rust and regret. Before him, a circular plinth of black, porous stone wept a thick, amber fluid. Blood , he realized. Not human, but not not-human either. It was the slow exsanguination of a god. Tonight, he would break it
He stood, alone in the dark, and waited for them to come. He had no magic left. No name. No city. But as the first armored golems clanked down the flooded stairs, their eye-gems blazing, Kaelen smiled. a circular plinth of black
He tied the third knot.
The minute ended.