The holographic projection of Neo Godson hovered above the starlight table. His golden reptilian eyes stared directly into their souls, completely uncaring of the millions of lightyears and dimensional barriers separating them.
Korvan slammed his giant fist against his armored thigh. He tried to let out a booming laugh to break the tension, but the sound was forced. It entirely lacked his usual chaotic joy.
"Eragon," Korvan grunted, spitting the name out like poisoned blood. "The First Dragon. The Lord of Hellfire. I thought the Ancient Accords ground his soul into cosmic dust. I thought we buried him beneath the foundation of the universe itself."
Aethelgard remained perfectly still at the head of the table. His featureless golden mask gave away nothing, but the sheer density of his aura conveyed a deep, fundamental dread.
