Darkness.
Then light. White.
It appeared in the void the way dawn appears on the horizon: slowly at first, then all at once, filling the darkness with a luminance that had no source and no direction and existed everywhere simultaneously.
Gavriel didn't see River or Tristan. He saw only the light, and the voice came from inside it, a voice that was ancient and female and carried the weight of a being who had watched civilizations rise and fall and had opinions about most of them.
The Moon Goddess spoke.
"Daughter of my light."
The voice resonated through every atom of the void, through Gavriel's chest, through the place where Tristan's heart used to beat.
"What has been done was never fated."
The light pulsed once, warm and slow.
