We didn’t die…
If there are three Namelesses, and Anshen doesn’t want to tell us anything at all! Except that it’s going to be so dangerous that if we know what we’re going to do, is it so strange that I thought we’d never live? If I’ve never have to meet another God until I meet Naigha, well, that’s fine with me!
But we survived, and now everything seems like it was the world’s worst nightmare, except that Master Jeran is real, and I’m back in Turenay. We’re now living in the school, except that most time I’m with Master Jeran. When we came back, turns out, he didn’t think we’d come back as well, and he’d made a little sketch of me, for himself, to remember me by:
But I’m still alive! And so is Lesla, and Vurian, and even Arin, our naughty as-it-were brother. All of us are in Turenay now, and I think Lord Vurian is still going to have a stern discussion with us. But I’ve also made the paintings for the children’s ward in hospital! A pike, a don’t-exist-beast, a pig with piglets and a pie!
And now I want to paint pancakes. Or eat them. Or both.