[These are the most recent of events, just for clarification!]
Suno sat at the desk of his space within Imperial Headquarters: the section partitioned for use by the Steel Force, of which he is the Overlord. He looked around the empty space with a sigh, able to express physically his inner thoughts now that he wasn't around people.
Thoughts raced through his mind. Shangshi and Seria, Jilata and Primatus--and the new recruits: Jilerel, and Lokter; and the full council, soon to be restored--and he threw his pen aside in frustration. Grabbing his head, he looked down at the desk before him. Empty. No sculptings, no sketches. Nothing. No appreciation for the arts, and nothing to represent what events of the past he did seem to remember.
In his age, time escaped him. He wished that he could recall even the fondest of his thoughts--his blood family--but could not. Everything from his childhood, except for the discovery of a small group of vagabond children and his later, long-term friend Rilos, and his adoptive family at the behest of the Octarchy, the Regins--a family raised by a Ylian man, Goset, his wife, and their dwarven son, Gondalin, Suno's brother from his adolescent years--that Suno grew to appreciate, was lost.
He wiped his face along his mailed palms and stood from his chair. There was a good reason why Suno practiced stoicism. A soldier should never whine.
He focused his thoughts more outward, to the present. Evirea. If there were anything that Suno really appreciated from his time bonding with Kaerli--an interesting opportunity that afforded him many chances--it was his getting to meet Evirea through her. This Klyros was something special. She was another with which Suno was able to bond, affording even more opportunities for his own personal gain. He looked over at the empty Imperial Throne, where the Warden usually sat herself. Yes, even the Warden had an interest in Evirea. Fortune would have smiled on the Overlord had Suno believed in it; perhaps something else starting with that consonant was doing so, instead.
He recalled his past conversation with Evirea: the summoner, and his need to be stopped. That would be unnecessary, Suno repeated in his mind. No, he had use for the summoner--Rigwyn Setson--and would not allow anybody to come between that. He kept his vision fixed on the Throne. "Shangshi," he repeated. And the Warden. Many interesting things had happened to the Empire since his departure, his middle years having been focused toward establishing Imperial good will with the Octarchy and subsequently representing the time in which he served as an honorary Sunshine Squadron soldier in the Labyrinths.
Yes, the Labyrinths. Everything became clear there.
He snapped to once again. Yes, everything was clear to him. Everything was chaos.
Slipping on his mask of clear composure, he picked up from his desk the letter he had been writing on his way to the Headquarters exit. This letter had a special purpose, and he made sure it was carefully constructed to avoid prolonging his success: this letter would summon the summoner.
---
If this letter has been given to you willingly, the letter read, you are the one who should have received it. If you are reading this and you were not given the letter willingly, know that if you follow this yulbar back to the sender, you will never know what you wish to uncover. Reader, it will be known quite simply whether you are the destined target of these words if you choose to follow this pet to where it leads you; this matter is of great import. I will reveal myself once I see that it is you.
Rigwyn Setson recovered this letter, as intended.
---
Suno waited patiently along the edge of the forest, carefully inserting himself among the trees through which he could see whether or not the yulbar, his summoned messenger for the summoning of the summoner, would return. He despised the little beast, always drenching his missives in saliva, but he could not be bothered obtaining a groffel, nor could he be bothered obtaining a rivnak, preferring to stay with the drifter whose stone he recovered while wandering the Bronze Doors some time shortly after his shift one day patrolling the Labyrinths.
He sighed. A million things at once, all of them interconnected and convoluted. He was tired of it, but persevered. He considered for a second his own good fortune--his fiery will--that kept him from coming off, he thought, as rude or awkward; being lost in his mind more times than not only added to his stoicism, the personality of and to which everybody knew and grew accustomed. But now wasn't the time for that, he thought.
Rigwyn, visible much before the yulbar, came running through the trail in the forest. Suno grinned behind the foliage, watching him scramble after the slobbering beast he sent with the earlier missive. The beast stopped before Rigwyn did, crawling into a mound of food hidden in the leaves where it gorged itself. Suno held up his ring and called it back before it was finished eating, only wanting to give it simple cues for the ease of following his commands.
"You made it," Suno called, approaching from the trees. "Good."
Rigwyn looked up at Suno, who was standing far above Rigwyn's position on the ground. This was an unplanned advantage in stature, Suno thought, but welcomed. "This was your note?" Rigwyn asked, holding it up. "Kinda strange."
"Yes," Suno replied, "I actually prefer to cover my trail." Suno remembered the first time he met Rigwyn: his first time back in Hydlaa since serving in the Labyrinths. What a special coincidence. He recalled the man's countenance, which was shrouded, as an altercation in the streets caught his eye. Rigwyn and Suno both stood back to observe, and bonded through the simplest recognition on behalf of Rigwyn, at first, of Suno's position in the Empire, at the time as a mere Recruit, as Suno had always been for most of his life; his position as a soldier under the late Captain Hwnae was phenomenally preventative of advancement, so much so that Suno had grown to accept his inferiority within both the Imperial and Octarchial forces. And he didn't mind that, as it kept him inconspicuous. That day, however, Shangshi's name arose; Suno thought nothing of it at first. "How have you been, Rigwyn?" he continued. "I've heard you've been keeping busy."
"I'm not sure what you've heard," Rigwyn replied. "It seems life's been biting me in the ass lately if anything. How are things with the... arrangement?" Ah, the arrangement, Suno thought. Yes, the reason why Shangshi's name struck him later once he realized exactly who Shangshi was: an Imperial, like himself. Rigwyn personally knew members of the Empire--as friends. With new-found rank by command of the new-found Imperial Warden, who petitioned to have such sent through to the council located outside of Hydlaa that, only recently, has been returning to Hydlaa, Suno found himself yearning for the chance to determine the threads--the politics--of this new-found Hydlaa.
Yes, the arrangement. Power comes with promises to those who have not, but Suno was not willing to act upon these this day. His mind focused toward the one thing he came to do: make Rigwyn Setson fear him and what he could do. "I'm sorry to hear that," Suno said unsympathetically. "The arrangement goes as far as you're willing to contribute. As of yet, I have not seen or heard of any effort on your behalf to find anybody willing to aid me." A faulty promise, that: aiding him. Suno did not need aid from this man, but it was at first the only way to plant the initial seed in Rigwyn--the seed of fear--by allowing him to think that there was a way to escape what Suno could do to him: reveal him. "Instead," Suno continued, "I've heard tales of your attempts to summon some sort of daemon. For what purpose? Or are you biting off more than you can chew?" There was the trigger, Suno thought. It would only be a matter of time, now.
"Summoning daemons?" Rigwyn asked. "That sounds more like common folklore or myth than anything else. You know that I'm a member of the Dark Order. I have my ways of honing my skill as do you." Rigwyn's attention seemed centered on the staff that Suno was holding: his own secret, his position as a Master in the Crystal Way Circle. "I'm sure you do things with that fancy stick that some folks would not think highly of or understand, for that matter."
Suno waved his staff dismissively toward Rigwyn and said, "I know you, Rigwyn Setson. Don't forget that little detail. You know what the Circles know, as do I." And there was the ploy. Suno would never reveal himself, through reckless action or verbally, to anybody. Rigwyn, however, was an open book. "What you're doing seems, in both regards, highly ridiculous. Folklore from certain mouths"--Evirea--"is no longer ordinary folk blabber. Now tell me: what's driving you right now? Blind ambition? Vengeance? You're just as hasty as ever to do whatever you like. Do you still not even know why you do what you do? I was hoping to have gotten through to you before, but I just keep hearing nonsense piled onto more nonsense." A moment's breath would be too much for Rigwyn, Suno thought.
"Did you bring me here to insult me about my ways, or is this about... the arrangement? If the latter, I have two who I can bring to the table. Possibly more. People come and go, so it's not always easy to keep a headcount." There it was again, Suno thought. Rigwyn was scraping at the chance to obtain the promise, so deadly focused on the simple that he failed to see the complex.
Suno pointed his staff toward Rigwyn as if he were knighting the man from that higher position, though they were too far for such a gesture to go as perceived in such a way, nor was it meant to be anything of the sort. Perhaps it was accusation. "No," Suno replied, "this is not about the arrangement. This is about you, Rigwyn; rather, this is about something you own. Don't forget what I know and what I can do to you as I tell you this: I've brought you here to collect on your hand. I think it would add to the fairness of our trade after the actual arrangement has been conducted. Wouldn't you rather that than the petite beauty of somebody else's belonging?"
Rigwyn immediately raised his gloved hands in the air, about shoulder length. "You've made a terrible mistake," he replied. "You see, this isn't Sarras's hand. This is my hand. Sarras cut off my hand and lost it, so she can suffer her consequences. As for that pointy little stick," Rigwyn said as he gestured to the staff, "I suggest you watch where you point it."
Suno grinned, more to establish his position of superiority than to express happiness. "I'm not here for vengeance. I just thought you needed a little reminder of who I am. If you don't cooperate, though, I can settle with dismantling all of your ties to the Empire and eliminating all of your ambitions. Which would you prefer? I think a daemon would very nicely roast in Azure flame, if I ever let you summon it. Or you could sit privately in a nice corner of power within the Empire itself, shrouded amid collective Imperial knowledge and resources that may help you achieve your goals, no matter how foolish." Yes, that was the arrangement. If Rigwyn could aid Suno with recruitment, why not let him think that he could hold power in the Empire? Any brought in by Rigwyn would be just the sort Suno would love to get his hands on--like Shangshi.
"You're not getting this hand," Rigwyn replied. "Period. It's mine; and besides, the fingers fit rather nicely into my nostrils. If you want to barter for a position in the Empire, I'll consider it, but it's not worth my flesh. If you wish to trade someone else's hand for this position, then we may be able to come to an agreement. There's plenty of Dermorian women running around here."
Suno waved his staff once more in dismissal and said, "You're disgusting, Rigwyn. The implications of your foolishness"--revealing himself and his intentions to the public--"don't even phase you, which I'll admit is fun. So, you want a replacement hand in return? I'm sure a trip to the local burial wells will procure such a thing." His mind flicked to Kaerli and Lace--and then Seria. "Have you heard there's a necromancer running amok? I wonder what his intentions are. Do you think he'd appreciate what you're doing? Or will you give him that same tired 'Dark Order' ploy and think nothing of it? I wonder how long you can keep acting oblivious to the obvious signs in your every action. The educated see right through you." The educated. Suno was so thankful for the fact that others knew things that they shouldn't, something he would deal with on a later day. They provided the perfect cover.
"Say what you will, Suno, but you're not getting my hand," Rigwyn hastily replied, "so you can go back to your mistress, Sarras, and tell her you failed her. I don't know what she's paying you--or doing for you under the table--but whatever the price is, it seems she's got you wrapped around her finger." An amusing thought, seeing as Suno rarely had any interaction with Sarras. Maybe that would be good due to his great interactions with Evirea and her friends, and Allena's help with current plans. He laughed as Rigwyn continued. "I thought better of you. I didn't think you were the type to let some woman turn you into her servant."
"Sarras didn't send me, Rigwyn. This has nothing to do with her. See past your expectations. I'm not averse to using force if necessary, but I'm not foolish enough to beat you to death; we both know that death won't stop you."
"Who do you serve, then?" Rigwyn asked.
"We all have questions, don't we? The hand, Rigwyn. Nothing else is important."
Rigwyn pulled off his glove and tossed it onto the ground, revealing Sarras's smooth, silky hand and a nasty weld-like scar that encircled his wrist. On the webbing between the thumb and forefinger was a strange-looking, black mark. It resembled some sort of strange character or letter; perhaps a glyph, Suno thought. Maybe something more. "You can come and get it, Suno. Give me everything you've got." As his smirk fell into a cold scowl, the black mark upon his hand began to glow with a vile, purple haze. Dark Way, Suno thought. No matter what that thing was, it would be quick.
Suno raised his staff. "You'll know fear, Rigwyn!" He knelt down into a militant posture, raising his shield over his crouched body as a bright crystal shine illuminated his body. He wanted to end this in one fell swoop: Ray of Faith, or more accurately, the channeled power of Yliakum's greatest resource blasting Rigwyn all at once. Simultaneously, Rigwyn extended his hand in font of his face and turned his head with a painful cringe to the side, the light from Suno's flashy preparations getting into his eyes. Tensing his outstretched hand, it began to smolder and sputter with foul black smoke as the blinding light shone upon it. He continued chanting a litany of magically charged words.
Words skittered across the edges of Suno's conscious, his mind and mouth focused on the utterances that would spell Rigwyn's doom. Finishing just before Rigwyn, he extended his staff around the left side of his shield and swept it across the road, channeling a powerful beam of energy that would surely consume the summoner. Suddenly, he came to the realization that the earlier words were from somebody on the opposite side of his shield: Allena, who was being pulled out of the way of the blast by some male friend of hers. Meanwhile, Rigwyn, badly burned on his face, wrists, and the other exposed areas of his flesh, uttered the final words to his own spell.
What was Allena doing here!? While Suno rather easily fended off the shadows suddenly reaching and clawing at his front, the stream from his backside pierced chain and flesh, causing him to stumble back into a tree as a light means of protection. He lowered his shield once the spell was over only to yell at the two elves standing below. "Get out of here! What are you doing!?"
"Somethin' stupid, usually," the Dermorian [Lonirod] called. "Don't suppose ya'd agree tah not escalate this tah mortal blows if'n I... took care of the Diaboli fer a bit. Priest's honor!" Meanwhile, Allena stood from her earlier position in the arms of the male, looking furiously at Suno and Rigwyn. Allena tightened her fists and a faint, deep, blue aura radiated from her left hand. Suno didn't take notice.
Rigwyn stood back up on his feet, having been bowled over by the prevailing flames, and stared at Suno with a mischevious grin. "How about a male Dermorain hand?" he asked. "Or a fishelf hand? Why are we beating each other up when we have four hands right here? You know I'll take one of those hands if you steal mine, Suno. Do you wish to live with the guilt?"
Actual anger skirted along Suno's outer mind; how could he be so blind as to assume such a thing? He let his emotions seep through and called out at Rigwyn as if no one else were there. "You think so little of me, it's laughable," he replied. "Guilt, Rigwyn? Learn who you're dealing with." He knelt down once more in the same position, only this time against a tree, and pointed his staff inward instead of out; he was going to heal himself before he become injured to the extent that Rigwyn already was. Focusing on the spell, he was able to come to his senses and raise his shield slightly in order to watch over Allena and her friend as he did this, still wildly confused at what they could be doing here or why they felt it necessary to step in; surely they could see that he had this under control.
Immediately, Allena burst forth with the spell that Suno only just now noticed. "I said enough!" she screamed, creating some manner of shockwave that Suno could only register as Dark Way. He came to the sudden realization that she could have been burned along with Rigwyn earlier. That would have been bad. He finished with his healing spell, the ground only have been slightly rocked and tossed by her outburst from where he sat, thus eliminating the searing pain in his back from the earlier dark magics. Meanwhile, Rigwyn turned toward Allena, pointing the soft, Dermorian hand at her face. As he did, it quickly appeared to fester and rot. The flesh on Sarras's old hand turned black and crumbled, revealing the skeletal form beneath. The hand glowed with a sickly haze--Necrotouch, Suno thought, being all too aware of the means of Dark Way practitioners. Luckily, Rigwyn was less fortunate with his footing, being rocked about by Allena's sudden outburst. Suno witnessed a Kran [Fyodor] move through the confusion and begin whispering to Allena's friend, trying to make sense of the chaos. He could not hear what was said, but he did not really care; now was his chance. He began channeling.
Allena breathed heavily, yelling at Suno and Rigwyn with great anger. "Stop acting like little children that want the same toy!" she called. "Just stop it and grow up!" If only the little girl knew what was really happening, Suno mused on the outskirts of his utterances.
Pointing the skeletal hand back in Allena's face, Rigywn shouted, "Who's side are you on?" Now that's a surprise, Suno thought. Rigwyn raised the hand to his left ear as if preparing to smack her face with the back of his hand--his skeletal hand. Necrotouch. "I oughta smarten you up for that, woman!"
"Let's all take a step back and calm down, hey!?" the Dermorian called. With a quck impulse, however, Rigwyn swung, batting Allena aside as the Kran shouted and moved in with not enough time to stop her from being hit.
Suno, no longer being the focus, took it as the perfect time to cast his spell: the forest around them flashed suddenly with a blinding white light, Suno finding just enough time amid the confusion to crush the backs of Rigwyn's legs with his spiked shield--a gift from a strange little fenki he met one day, which he adorned with the Imperial seal to make it a more efficient weapon and symbol; of course, that seal was now covered in blood. Rigwyn screamed, his expletives echoing through the forests as the words of the Dermorian to the Kran came shrouded from his ears. Unwilling to pay them any mind and focusing on finishing the job, Suno immediately stood over Rigwyn, filled with vigor from his earlier healing and pointed his staff down toward the man, shield raised.
"Allena," Suno called over his shoulders, finally able to see from the spots in his eyes after his immediacy to the spell he cast earlier, "get out of here! Nobody will die today. I'll make sure of that!"
The Dermorian, answering in response to Suno, who was unaware that Allena was now unconscious, said, "Killin' 'im still counts as someone dyin', ya rotter!" Why were they trying to help Rigwyn? Allena wasn't just playing a double agent, she was actually helping him! She would be dealt with later when he tells Evirea. Now wasn't the time.
"He won't die, either," Suno responded hastily. "Don't think so little of me, priest! Now see her to safety!" He paid no further mind to the Kran and Dermorian carrying Allena's unconscious little body away from the scene, having felt for just a second somewhat embarrassed at how out of hand the situation had become. His attention focused on the screaming man underneath the flared tips of his staff.
Blood soaked Rigwyn's legs as he hissed forward his next words: "You sell out! You rotten swine! Backstabbing me in order to please the whore? You think you have the upperhand now, Suno? Now that I'm bleeding and on the ground? You should know better... you will know fear like never before!" Empty threats, Suno thought. This is done. He laughed so that Rigwyn could hear the delight in his own mind, having to force it through his own emotional shroud construed from the haste of the situation. This wasn't about the hand. This was about fear: establishing superiority.
"You don't know anything, Rigwyn! Your actions are a danger to everything. You could have so much for such a simple contribution, and you refuse that offer through stubbornness. The only one in the position to be feeling fear right now is you." He scanned with his eyes Rigwyn's person, finding what he was searching for; his boot tore and kicked away the only glyph pouch he could see, which was filled only with Azure Way glyphs. That made no sense, Suno thought, realizing quickly that Rigwyn's spells would not be silenced so easily.
"You're a man of no fear Suno? None at all?" As he spoke, a sickening, violet haze began to form around him. "Look inside yourself Suno. You think you're safe and secure because you have the upper hand and a band of corporate criminals on your side? May you shake from the inside out, bastard!" He uttered several more words as Suno's reality shifted away from the current situation.
Friends. Family. No, none of those--deeper. How deeply could it go, really? He felt himself immersed in a makeshift reality of his own design, guided by the bounds of Rigwyn's spell, but could emotionally feel nothing. Was that fear? He couldn't remember--.
Until there it was: Dakkru. Death broke his family with a blade all too tall. He had forgotten why he ever wielded that piece of metal, much larger than he would dare to have learned to wield had he not had the burning drive to see the thing cleansed of his family's own blood. It was a wicked tool, in tune through diamond enchantments, much like Rigwyn's armor and opposite to his own, with the powers of the Death Realm, and that, in turn, was what killed his parents. He never could, from that day on, see his family. They were gone. It made no sense. Why did they have to go? Why do we live only to die? Don't good, strong people prevent these things? Why can't--.
The spell weakened. Suno came to his senses only briefly, his head having fallen naturally toward the sky as he searched the inner depths of his mind through the spell's guidance. "I remember," Suno said softly. "Nothingness. You thought that would be enough... as if I could ever go back to that. How amusing." The gods would understand his suffering: the reason he ever came to be who he was, and suffer through ridiculous, vagabond whelps, and withhold his anger at a false family that he almost wanted, in his weakness, to return to. No more.
Rigwyn, scraping and crawling down the path and toward the edges of the forest, was no longer in possession of the sickly necrotic power that shrouded Sarras's hand; the flesh restored, he was certain, Suno thought, that he could escape with that same flesh intact. No, it would be his. Rigwyn would know fear and suffering this day.
With a sigh, the last of the spell's hold leaving him to his own stoic solace once more, Suno waved his staff and conjured the tool through which he would inspire in Rigwyn the sheer madness of fear and anguish: a crystal mirror, wrought from the power of the Azure Sun. "Your turn, Setson."
Rigwyn then saw his form, which now blocked his path: mangled legs and dusty, muddy body crawling in the muck, sickly eyes and scarred body and clothes, burnt and cut and torn. And then Suno, slowly approaching behind his desperate form--desperation showing in the lens of the mirror--superior in every way to the poor summoner. Suno's form was perfection incarnate, not with a scratch on him as he peered over the battered opposite below. All of this shone in the mirror, and Suno could feel Rigwyn's scathing hatred.
Distracted by his own calmed thoughts, having been delighted to have returned to his mind after this ridiculous scuffle, Suno did not even notice Rigwyn casting another spell: shadows suddenly engulfed the forests, shrouding Rigwyn from view. Knowing that he could not move fast, Suno waved his staff and cleared the darkness with a blinding light, peering along the edges of the trees for some sign of the Setson. Just then, Suno felt the man grab his leg, unaware that he was still lying before him in no attempt actually to escape. Channeling a spell helplessly into the diamonds embedded in Suno's chain, the Diaboli fell short of healing himself in that final act of desperation, and this spelled his doom.
Suno shifted his hold on his staff, holding it like a javelin or some sort of pitchfork, and stabbed it directly into the arm reaching out toward Suno's leg--the arm connected to Sarras's hand. Rigwyn's screams resonated through the entire forest, but for no more ears hiding in the bushes to hear. Allena would be glad she did not stay to see this, Suno thought for reasons other than sympathy for corrupting young eyes, as his already were so long ago. Where were her parents? Maybe she was not so much unlike himself, after all.
Rigwyn, grabbing frantically toward the staff with his other hand to try and remove the intruding spikes, then found his hand under Suno's mailed boot. "Curse you! I'll make you pay, you piece of garbage!" Rigwyn screamed. No more time for games. It had to be now.
"Look in the mirror, Rigwyn. I want you to see this." Suno removed his hand from his staff and drew his sword, looking solely at Sarras's fingers and hand barely brushing his other foot. He looked up at the mirror, making sure to grin as he spoke, taking a superior form over the battered body under his foot. "Are you watching? Engrave it in your brain, Rigwyn! Remember it! This will only happen once." He amused himself with the maniacal thought of chopping Rigwyn to bits before his very eyes, muttering the word "maybe" under his breath. It had to be now.
Splurt.
Not a clean cut, Suno realized, seeing just a few more tendons unwilling to let Sarras's hand go from Rigwyn's dirty, bloody arm. Suno imagined Rigwyn dying from all of this: all would go to waste, and he would fail. Hastily, he sheathed his sword and moved to heal the man, removing his boot from the man's other hand and focusing a steady kick at the soon-to-be severed hand, only to find that he was causing Rigwyn more pain and recklessly avoiding the process he knew was necessary to heal this man to his fullest. Calming himself to prevent the worried excitement from consuming him, Suno threw his shield into the forest and once again drew his blade against the silent screams of the summoner to finish the job: and it was a clean cut. He quickly worded the necessary incantations and channeled them through his staff, still impaled through the poor man's handless arm, and halted the bleeding and pain, moreso through searing the open wound shut than sealing it--a strange magical reaction to Rigwyn's heightened corrupted practices. Why would anyone learn Dakkru's art who knows what we know? Suno would never understand it.
Rigwyn hastened himself away as soon as Suno removed the oppressive tool from his arm, scrambling with some bit of restored vigor, though now without a female's hand to call his own. Collecting this hand, Suno called out to his form--and realized with delight that the mirror was only just now fading, having in its last moments reflected not only the scene of Rigwyn being bloodily dismembered, but scrambling away from Suno's perfect form in absolute fear and painful anguish. "If you don't scamper off quickly, I'll take your other hand, Setson. Bore the image in your head. Do you want to experience it again? Make your choice!"
Rigwyn continued to stagger on his forearm and knees to the edge of the woods in an attempt to escape. Seeing an opening between the trees, he rushed into the cover of the forest, with Suno's next words calling after him: "You'd better hurry yourself! If you don't, you'll get washed away in the arrows that I'll soon rain upon the forest! Run, Setson!" And there it was. Just before exiting through the trees, Rigwyn gave Suno one last look over his shoulder; Suno registered this as absolute fear, just what he wanted. But he couldn't stop there. Oh no. Following up on his promise, he cast his spell into a nearby part of the forest: through the trees, and widely unseen, hundreds of arrows rained down and pierced wood, wildlife, and bushes, rustling leaves everywhere in that direction and bringing together a collective crystal shine that illuminated the space between the trees separating Rigwyn from the chaos. Suno laughed loudly, louder than he ever had before, just to make sure that Rigwyn Setson could hear him.
Those would be his final memories of Suno after the events of this day: the sound of true power.
