Ouroboros Spine kinuk ⊹

Iḷitqusiq.

No longer was he Patroclus, the man from an empire who had failed to be what he should have been. He was Iḷitqusiq, the spirit that could not die. His yellow eyes closed and his head turned slightly. A soft thoughtful gesture. Attempting to mouth the name and test it along his tongue before he spoke aloud —

Iḷitqusiq of Moonglow.

Spoken and bonded now. Him to this place, him to her culture upon this peaked spine.

He repeated it once more with his chin now tucked to his own chest, a whisper like a mantra.

Iḷitqusiq of Moonglow.