"I. AM. REBORN!"
Naaric's shout echoed off the trees, shaking snow from their branches and shattering icicles that clung to their boughs.
Several of the Frost Walkers standing nearby, many of whom had known Naaric for many years, stared in awe as the quiet, unassuming elder of his village exhibited a power that felt, for a brief moment, every bit as strong as Quaniit's… Maybe even stronger.
Not long ago, he'd been among the weakest of the elders, chosen to carry news to the Immortal Ancestor not because he was respected or powerful, but because few would complain if the Immortal Ancestor killed him when she heard his news.
Some had speculated that she would feast on his blood before hurling his body off the Summit of the World. Others were convinced that she wouldn't let a trace of his weak blood pass her lips. No one had expected to see him remade before their eyes, receiving a boon the likes of which they'd never dared to imagine.
