Chadstone emerged in the one small space he could call his own, a weaving between worlds, a dimension that gave him a certain illusion of freedom from the Ancients. He knew he was never truly free from them, that they were watching him as well as the girls with a scrying spell. Alone, in this chamber, he could almost pretend he wasn’t - he could pretend he was human.
That he was flesh and blood, he’d been born with a soul instead of carved into being in a slab of stone, and he was himself instead of a rune-carved shard.
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