The book sat on William's table for three days.
He couldn't bring himself to open it again. Aldric's words, the Saint's story, the village's legacy—it was all there, bound in leather and ink. But William felt a strange reluctance to read it. It felt like looking in a mirror. Like seeing himself as others saw him.
Elara found him staring at the book on the third evening.
"You're afraid to read it," she said.
"I'm not afraid. I'm... uncertain."
"What's the difference?"
"Fear is about what might happen. Uncertainty is about what might be true."
She sat beside him. "Then let's find out what's true."
---
William opened the book.
The first words were simple, as he remembered: There was once a man who had everything. He lost it all. But he did not give up.
He read on.
Aldric had writt
