“And then came the execution,” she continued. “Sinshei’s dagger tore open Lycaena’s breast. I watched our goddess die. That was when I knew. I knew. This wasn’t the fabled times. This wasn’t a story where I would be the hero to save Thanet. The Everlorn Empire had its own stories, its own prophecies, and its own gods. We would be a footnote in them. A small island in the middle of nowhere, finally brought to heel.”

Keles wiped at her eyes, banishing traitorous tears.

“The Vagrant is no different than the paladin I once was, Cyrus. I shed my heroic mantle, for I believed you dead, and the bloodline I was sworn to protect forever lost. The thought of believing in something other than my goddess terrified me. I grew up fearful of admitting doubt for even a moment. Lycaena was my heart, my desire, my comfort. Now she’s dead, and I am no longer a paladin. My greatest doubt came true, yet I did not crumble, nor cease to be. Only we decide who we are. No one else. The Vagrant is just a mask. It is an identity you slide over yourself like a cloak. It can be removed. It can be rejected. You are not slave to it, no matter the pressures you face or the guilt that weighs upon you. Clinging to it may grant survival, but it may also drag you under. Always know the difference. Always make it your choice.”

Cyrus stared at the skull in his hands, at the too-wide teeth grinning back up at him, and was haunted by his inability to speak his true name to the crowd.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I have a choice.”

She settled her hand upon his and, in doing so, covered the mask with her slender fingers and painted nails. A new kind of panic overtook Cyrus, nothing at all like when he was to reveal his face to the crowd.

“You would choose the right path, but if you let others decide what is right, and what is wrong, you will never make a choice at all.”

They sat in silence. He wished he could wrap his arm about her and hold her close. He wished she would place her head upon his chest, and he could take comfort in her warmth. She was beautiful, so beautiful, but it went beyond that. Her faith was lost, yet she seemed so much more secure in herself and her decisions. He had always held little faith, and now he knew nothing but doubt. Thorda would have him counter it with rage. How would Keles?

“So it sounds like you’re pretty good with a sword and shield,” he said, wanting to banish the last remnants of tension. If he didn’t start talking, he might do something stupid like lean closer toward her, or wrap his fingers into hers. “Are you better than Rayan?”