The sword's howl reached Cassarae before anything else did.
Her body no longer gave her much to work with, split so completely that the ordinary processes of life had already begun giving up, but the Sword Will leaking from what remained of her still responded to that sound.
It spread through the blood soaking the courtyard, through the severed flesh and exposed bone, until Cassarae could no longer tell where her Will ended and the pieces of her body began.
The distinction suddenly felt unnecessary.
Tomoe had done something similar during her battle with Sylas, turning the Aether around herself into Sword Will until injury became little more than another flaw that could be sharpened away. Cassarae couldn't copy Tomoe's Formless Will, but with death already pulling apart the boundaries of her existence and that old song ringing louder than it ever had before, she finally understood the part that mattered.
