The next day, Lucien received two visitors whose request surprised him less than it should have.
Reaper, the former Assassin Chief, still moved like a shadow that had only recently remembered how to exist in daylight.
Beside him walked Eldran, the former Magic Tower Master, carrying his age with the dignity of a man who had long ago learned that intelligence could become either wisdom or poison depending on where regret was allowed to settle.
For a time after Lucien had left the small world, both of them had abandoned their old positions.
They had become ordinary farmers in Lootwell.
At first glance, it had looked absurd.
At second glance, it had looked sad.
And at the deepest glance, Lucien understood it for what it really was.
Penance.
Not because the past had truly been their fault, but because men who had spent too long living close to blood and manipulation did not easily accept peace unless they had first buried themselves in labor simple enough to feel honest.
