Sometimes it's easy. Your life for a stranger's, for a mage; a friend.

Sometimes it's worse, sending folks to the grave with no time to think, only fumbling later for a reason. Gwen'd kill him if he let a kid come to harm. Vanya's a soldier, he knows the risks —

There are times that reason fails. Fifi's lighter than Gela, but she's not the one he hauls up a cliff. There are times he gets angry, curses what's coming. The longer they're at it, the Fade bends toward Caius, expectant. Already pressed to shape.

One night, there's a sacked town; an old man straining for a spell. There are orders. Another: Enemies above, a trapped street below. An injured woman, and a Rift that must be shut.

Choices. Fight, kill. Die, choose. Sporadic, infrequent, and he can tell a little now when it's coming; a ripple in the nerves that wrap his ear. A shift of that great hum. When he steps into the stables tonight, he isn't surprised to find them a library.

The light draws him as a moth. At the edge of awareness, his sleeves rearrange themselves. Cedric looks past the books, hunting ash and pattern.