How deeply should he worry about Those Who Remain?
Noah turned the question over once. To fear was human.
He had learned that lesson again! Fear was a map that he simply needed to navigate as on the other side of fear...was boundless glory!
He was afraid, correctly. And he would still move! That had always been the immensity of being human, feeling everything, and going forward anyway!
And beneath the fear sat something warmer and greedier, because a Descendant of Those Who Remain stood at speaking distance offering open access to his own existence, and Noah was so, so curious about what such a being held within!
The foamy dark had gone very quiet. Nine clones hung in a loose ring around the throne-saddle, and the last Steed stood trembling beneath its Jarl with its head lowered, and the silence stretched until it had a weight of its own.
Then Noah spoke.
"I can cure you."
