He took a ragged, impossible breath. “That would be a beautiful lie to believe,” he said, and, incredible, the ghost of a smile, bitter and sweet passed over his face. “The fire of Glorious burned away the demon’s blood. All my life it has scorched my veins and cut at my heart like blades, and weighed me down like lead— all my life, and I never knew it. I never knew the difference. I’ve never felt so… light,” he said softly, and then he smiled, and closed his eyes, and died.