"Aeloria. Berenice."
A small, genuine smile touched Orson's face. Seeing the two of them alive took the edge off the storm in his chest.
Aeloria lowered her blood-bright eyes, dropped to one knee, and stayed the same battle-hungry dragon he remembered. "I will follow my master and cut down the gods."
"And I… I'll manage your money."
Berenice tossed her hair, proud as ever. His presence rattled her, but she still forced her spine straight.
"Good." Orson nodded.
"Friend, you're back. We've been waiting."
"I know."
Drunken Dream walked up beside him. The flashy rich kid energy was gone. What replaced it was bedrock.
Looking at his old "mount," Orson felt a pinch behind the ribs. He didn't want to imagine what the man had lived through. He could've used the "Heaven's Eye" to give him a better future. In the end, Drunken Dream still became the last steel-spined son of House Platinum. The only difference was, the soft ones from House Sheehan died with honor, not in cowardice.
