Ozeroth remained silent that night. And as his bond, Atticus could feel everything the spirit felt.
In all honesty, Atticus understood, perhaps better than anyone, that the prideful spirit had a lot to process.
If he had just found out that everything he believed his entire life was a lie, twice in such a short span, he wasn't sure he'd have handled it any better.
Not only had Ozeroth discovered that the power he'd spent centuries pursuing was merely fueling another's path, a cheap imitation, as he often called it, but now there was the possibility that the man he hated most in the world might be his father?
To anyone else, it might seem like he was overreacting. But now, Atticus understood just how important the concept of kin was to Ozeroth.
That night, the spirit had reflected on everything, and, thankfully, he hadn't blocked his thoughts. Atticus had heard it all.
