Jared gave no answer. His face stayed calm, without a ripple. But beneath that still surface, the weight of every farewell and every thing he could not accept pressed down without end.
He raised his hand and drew the Dragonslayer Sword. Cold light flashed from the blade, and violet chaos-flame roared to life along it.
He pushed upward against the current and faced the Golden Immortal dominion head-on. He would not lower his head. He would not bend his knees.
Gwendolyn stood beside him, the Frostbrand steady in her hand. Icy divine radiance guarded her body, but her face had gone pale and worn thin.
The hand wrapped around her sword, however, held firm as stone. In her eyes lay the hard finish of a choice already made: through life or death, she would stay with him and never leave.
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