Duskfire Glacier When gods forgive

He had appeared almost instantly, as though summoned by the mere act of her crossing into his domain. But where were his people? Had they ever truly existed? The North teemed with scents, with traces of passage, yet despite the restless murmur of the land, Aspa had encountered few mortals.

Så sandt. Her står jeg på din gletsjer, she said, amusement curling at the edges of her voice. Jorden skælver, skrøbelig og åndeløs, mens den venter på tordenens brøl, lynets slag! A pause.

Og dog så jeg dig ikke ved min hytte, Faust af Darukaal.

She set down her provisions, weaving her way toward the colossus with the sinuous grace of a viper—perhaps just as cunning.

Ser du ikke de tegn, guderne efterlader for dig? Her voice was inquisitive, edged with something sharper. Eller vælger du bevidst at vende blikket bort?

Slowly, the fur along her spine rose, bristling, while her ears flicked and swiveled, possessed by unseen whispers.

De taler, ved du… og deres tålmodighed rinder ud.

She met his gaze, unwavering—small beside such a titan, yet never so small as to be diminished. After all, had she not walked among the gods? A mere mortal would not be enough to unnerve her.