Despite the strides he had taken forward, the past still overshadowed him, like an affliction that refused to depart. Each time he would close his eyes, all he ever saw were the fire, the blood, the screams. He had put to death so many dragons; he had gained power but lost so much of himself on the way.
Elara could see how different he had become—the light in his eyes had faded considerably, and the weight of his decisions had begun to press down on him. Generally, he had carried the burden of his past alone, but now the past began to carry him.
"You can't keep running from it," Elara said softly one night. "It's part of you, Rein. But it no longer defines you."
He met her gaze, and the power of her words bore down on him. "I don't know who I am without it."
"You don't have to know that yet," she answered. "But you will."