It was a new thread, as faint and delicate as the old one, running outward from the shell toward the distant presence of the Heavenly Records.
But this thread carried no record of awakening and no Calling. It carried only the quiet, ordinary record of a young man who had been born, grown up, and was about to be awakened for the first time.
Ning let out a slow breath and lay back on the bunk.
"Thank you," he said.
He lay there for a while, watching the stars drift past the window, and then he thought of something else.
It had been a long time since he had spoken to Crownus.
More than five years had passed since he had left the Galactic Will on the moon above Truimal and walked into the academy under his new name. In all that time, he had not reached out once. He had been busy, and Crownus had been recovering. There had been no reason to disturb him.
