Seven bloodlines mixed into a single shimmering pool, swirling together as if stirred by an unseen hand.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the basin detonated gold. The flame tripled in height, burning so bright that every person turned away until it dimmed.
Whispers filled the chamber.
"You return."
The pause that followed was loaded with the particular energy of ancestors who had opinions about the circumstances.
"Seven entered the lake. Seven survived. The ancestors are pleasantly surprised."
The words hit the room sideways. The ancestors had expected casualties. Gav exhaled through his nose. Of course they were going to be like this.
"We have already spoken your names and your fates. We will spare you the introductions."
The fire in the basin flared gold, then settled.
"Though the ancestors would like it noted that Gavriel Sterling was told a crossroads lay ahead. The crossroads has arrived, and he is standing in it bleeding. The ancestors consider this on brand."
