C37 The Mark Of The Broken Circle

Eryx doesn't move for a long moment, kneeling exactly where his father sat, staring at the empty air his hands still cup as though sheer will might somehow conjure him back. The archive's broken crystals still smolder faintly around him, and no one else in the chamber seems willing to be the first to break the silence.

"Eryx," I say softly, kneeling beside him.

"I just got him back," he says