The second fragment gleamed in Agnos's palm like a shard of crystallized twilight, its violet hue shimmering faintly even in the dim light of the forest clearing.
When he finally ate it, the fragment dissolved into a wisp of smoke, curling briefly around his head before vanishing. I couldn't help but stare.
Watching an ancient god consume pieces of himself was unsettling, like witnessing someone put puzzle pieces into their mouth instead of a picture frame.
"Do you feel any different?" I asked, half-expecting him to erupt into flames or sprout a second head.
Agnos wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking wholly unimpressed. "It will take all the fragments for my powers to fully return. This is merely... progress."
Progress. Right.
I had trudged through swamps, dodged raging Basilisk, and endured the world's longest hike for him to call this "progress."
