“Ada’ii said we come back,” he mumbled. “If we fail to live a good life.”

“Magic is supposed to be a sin,” he thought. “And evil people are supposed to go to hell. But if magic’s not evil, and evil people are just sent back here to repeat their mistakes…”

He stewed over this thought a moment longer, surveying the scene around him—the warriors stationed on the wall, ready to fight to the death, the elders around the carving performing their heathen ritual, the refugees below having lost everything they loved and everything they owned. The scene before him turned grey, as if in anticipation of the fact that all of this would likely soon cease to be. A noise came to him on the wi...

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