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Rhyven replaces the strap. It fits. Obviously. I feel absurdly satisfied. That is probably a problem.

"Did Vyrael choose you or did you choose him?" I asl after a while.

Rhyven exhales. "Both."

"That's vague."

"It's accurate."

"Explain."

"No."

"Rhyven." His eyes close briefly. I smile. Victory.

"He had rejected three Riders."

I stop. "What?"

"Before me."

"Three?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Ask him."

"I'll get right on that."

Rhyven continues. "I wasn't supposed to approach him."

"Of course you did."

"No."

I blink. "No?"

"I followed instructions."

"Are you feeling well?"

"Occasionally." I grin. "He approached me." He adds.

That shuts me up.

"Vyrael?"

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I was twelve."