Dorian clutched the side of his face, a mask of terror etched onto his features.
Every single thing Yahoshi had just told him was enough to make anyone's heart hammer against their ribs like a trapped bird.
Rather than looking straight at her, his gaze was focused directly on the ground, watching the dark, rippling water beneath the boat.
"Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" he blurted out.
For some reason, as Yahoshi told the story, he could feel fragments of memory returning to him. They were right at the tip of his tongue, the smell of blood in the ravine, the heat of the fire, the cold touch of the void blade, and yet, he could not fully grasp them.
It was like trying to hold smoke with his bare hands.
Finally able to calm himself down, he slightly raised his head to look at Yahoshi.
All she did was sit there and stare at him, her hands folded neatly on her lap, giving him the time he needed to process the bomb she had just dropped.
