So the tournament, gathering thousands of the best and most gifted Practitioners to fight and shed blood, was only a farewell ceremony for a Rank 5 Spark? Adyr thought it in silence, a faint smile touching his mouth.
He felt no resentment toward that truth, only amusement and a quiet recognition that it made sense. For someone at an Adept's level, sending an old friend on his last journey with spectacle, struggle, and the world as witness was a fitting rite.
In its own way, the spectacle mirrored the logic of Adyr's former life.
After losing his family, he devoted himself to blood and the taking of lives, as if every spill were an offering to the dead—a wash for their souls, a means to cleanse resentment and hardship.
