Bonds Design

Something slipped from one of the cracks in the wall. A moving Pattern that dimpled the stone. It crossed to his hand, which he tucked into his rags as the guards seized him under the arms and hauled him out into the gardens, then tossed him among the beggars there.
Once they were gone, Wit rolled over and looked at the Pattern that now covered his palm. It seemed to be trembling.
“Life before death, little one,” Wit whispered.

Oathbringer Epilogue