As Raze walked side by side with Safa, his thoughts began to drift, to a face from his past.
Ibarin.
Of all the atrocities the Grand Magi had committed, of all the destruction and pain they had brought to Alterian, some might have said Ibarin was the least guilty. The one with the smallest stain.
But Raze knew better.
Ibarin wore his inferiority complex like a crown. He didn't rise by climbing, he rose by dragging others down, grinding them beneath his feet to feel taller. And to Raze, this wasn't just about Alterian's suffering. This was personal.
Deeply personal.
Because Ibarin hadn't just played a part in the Grand Magus Council, the same council that had put a target on Raze's back, that continued to hunt him, to bury the truth about what really happened.
No, Ibarin had been the start of it all.
The beginning of Raze's downfall. The one who forced him out of his job.
A chain reaction followed: the loss of his position, his identity… and eventually, Sabrina.
Everything.
