Oh, he thinks, as something seems to slot into place. He was asking the wrong questions.

He pulls Magnus against his shoulder and rubs his hand in slow circles on Magnus' back, the way Shen Yuan would have, touching without being asked, with all the gentleness in the world. "No more fighting," he says into Magnus' hair. "It's done." He doesn't mean this, today, though there's no telling whether Magnus would understand that. He means at all. No more sparring, no more of either of them leaping into someone's hand to be wielded, no more prophecies. They're in a new place; their Gods don't speak to them. It's over.