Alpheo said nothing. He didn't dare to.
Instead, he sat still, silent as stone, trying to leave all the space in the world for his friend to breathe—because he knew all too well the weight of words like the ones Asag was gathering.
Some memories clung like rusted chains, and pulling them into the light was not a thing done lightly.
Asag didn't look at him as he spoke. He poured himself a fresh cup of cider, amber froth spilling slightly over the rim, and stared down into it as though trying to read his past in the reflection.
"All of you," he began quietly, his voice a low murmur beneath the merriment around them, "Jarza, Egil, Clio, Laedio… you were born freemen.Life managed in due time to find a way to shackle each one of you, in one form or another. But at least you had the memory of freedom to hold onto."
