Tens of thousands.
That number should not feel small, but in the vision, it hadn't felt like a number at all.
It had felt like an ocean. A storm of hearts breaking at once, singing one last song of flames into her.
Sigrid.
The sea of Living Origin Authority churned around her as tens of thousands of Living White Origins fell into themselves, their beginnings unraveling like silk, burning as white fire. Sacrifices turned into tributaries flowing into one vessel.
Her.
In the distance of that day, beyond the veil of tears and purpose, other Lineages of Living Origins watched.
They had not stepped forward. They had not interfered.
They simply bore witness.
Only a few Prime Living Origins and those of Honored rank or above from other Lineages were permitted to know. The moment was far too grave for the rest. It could not spread. It was not meant to spread.
But among those watchers... were eyes.
Eyes glowing with the hue of regal purple and gold.
The Living Royal Origins.
