Lucien sat in silence. His thoughts turned like the cogs of fate.
Elder Dusk had sensed his divine energy. That meant the Varkhaal Sect might soon connect the theft to a being capable of wielding it.
Only one race in the Big World fits that description.
The Celestial Race.
A slow, dangerous idea formed in his mind.
If the blame were to fall somewhere, let it fall on those who could bear it. The Celestial Race was formidable and untouchable guardians of order. They wouldn't be harmed by mere accusations.
In fact, Lucien knew this would backfire on the sects.
After all, the Celestials despised slavery... especially the enslavement of humans whom they protect. Once word reached them, it would be the sects who faced judgment.
A plan that punished evil by its own chain of cause.
The sky was darkening when the Voidcraft finally touched down. Its hull dimmed as it sank into the trees' shadows. Lucien and Marie came out slowly.
