He wrote everything he knew about each of them. Observations accumulated over months of careful vision-work. They were not predictions—the future was too contingent for useful prediction, too dependent on choices not yet made by people who hadn't yet understood what they were choosing. But patterns. The shape of who they were and what the tapestry suggested they might become under sufficient pressure.
The healer whose Soul Talent was more significant than she understood—not just healing, but something deeper that the records didn't have clean language for. The cold one now deployed to Ashmar who might find something there worth becoming better for, or might find confirmation of his worst tendencies. The intelligence specialist building structures that would outlast his own understanding of what he'd built.
He wrote about each of them with the care of someone who understood this was the most important thing he'd done in years.
