"Mor'vyre," Rebecca said, looking at him without any edge in her voice, "were you born like that, or did something happen to make your face split that way."
Mor'vyre didn't answer immediately.
He stayed still, then let out a quiet breath that sounded tired in a way only very old beings could manage.
"Neither," he said. "And both."
Rebecca waited. She didn't rush him.
"It wasn't an accident," Mor'vyre continued. "And it wasn't a blessing. It was a choice. One I made when I still believed compromise was smarter than conviction."
He touched the side of his face that looked human. Then the bone half.
"I was whole once. One soul. One will. I ruled a small domain back then. Not a kingdom like the ones you know. A convergence. A place where dying concepts came to rest when they lost relevance."
Rebecca frowned slightly. "Concepts die?"
