“Who…who are you?” Tavius rasped.
Slowly, his head turned to where my stepbrother stood. “I am known as the Asher,” he said, and I shuddered. Is it short for something, I’d asked when he told me his name. It is short for many things. “The One who is Blessed. I am the Guardian of Souls and the Primal God of Common Men and Endings.” His voice traveled through the Great Hall, and absolute silence answered. I could barely force air through my lungs. “I am Nyktos, ruler of the Shadowlands, the Primal of Death.”
