Senera narrowed her eyes. “Who do you think you are?” She walked over to the fireplace and bent over to pet the dhole puppy, whose tail thumped against the hearth in response.

“What do you mean? I’m Sir Oreth Malkoessian—”

She rolled her eyes. “Meaningless. Ephemeral. Titles and quirks of birth order can be stripped from you in an instant. Who are you?” Without waiting for him to answer, she turned to Brother Qown. “Let’s try this again. Who are you?”

“I—” Qown made a face. “I’m a priest of—”

Senera cut him off with an angry gesture. “I expected better. That’s a job. If I slay you now, priest, do you cease to exist?” She turned back to Sir Oreth. “Do you think you’re nothing more than your physical form? Pretty and quick? Young and stupid?”

“Hey!” Sir Oreth flinched as the sword reminded him not to move.

“Our souls,” Brother Qown said. “We are our souls.”

“Right,” Sir Oreth agreed. “When I die, my soul will go to the Land of Peace.”

“Don’t assume Thaena likes you that much. I’ll allow you’ll at least travel to the Afterlife.” She walked over to Janel’s body. “This body you wear isn’t who you are. It’s not your identity. In fact, it’s your prison. Your body keeps you pinned to this side of the twin worlds, locked away, controllable. While we had that old woman in her physical body, healthy and alive, her soul was under our control. But now that you’ve killed her?” She tsked. “Dorna’s telling Thaena everything she knows even as we speak. And Thaena will tell her people. The Goddess of Death will then tell your father, the Markreev, the first time he makes a funerary offering at one of Thaena’s shrines. Tell me, what sort of man is the Markreev of Stavira? Will he lie to protect you? Or will he tell the duke the truth: that his son is a traitor gone so very saelen? What a disappointment you must be…”

Sir Oreth seemed so horrified by the question, he stopped paying attention to the hovering sword.

“Wait,” Brother Qown said. “You’re talking about this like Thaena is the enemy. Thaena herself.”

Senera shrugged. “Thaena is the enemy. They all are. Khored, Taja, Galava—all of them. You’ve been sold lies all your life. The Eight Immortals aren’t our guardians. They’re our jailers, our rulers. They sit at the pinnacle of a system that benefits from humanity’s enslavement. Why would they ever set us free?” She picked up scissors and began to cut away the leather straps holding Janel’s ornamental black armor to her body.

“That’s not—” But before Brother Qown could even begin to protest, light blazed brightly before a bookcase, solidifying into a familiar fractal swirl—which circled while the center turned mirrorlike.

Relos Var stepped through.