The name finished forming on the page, and for a long moment, nobody in the Vault of Unwritten Truths moved. Aether stood frozen, staring down at the ink that had just spelled out his own identity in a book that had existed, in some form, since before he had ever drawn breath. The silence stretched thin enough to hurt.
He was the first to break it.
"No," he said, and his voice came out rougher than he intended. "That's not possible."
The Forgotten Reader did not answer immediately. He simply watched Aether with that patient, unreadable expression he always wore, the one that made it impossible to tell whether he was about to offer comfort or deliver another blow.
