Querilous Fitch had been there, through every long hour of the procedure, holding Emuel’s hand and praying him through the pain.

The first night after the operation, Emuel’s body sang with agony. The stitches and scar tissue throbbed with every beat of his heart. But Querilous had taught him that he should listen for the voice beyond the pain; use the purity of his agony to focus his mind so that he could hear the sacred song that underlay everything. And there it had been, very quiet at first, but growing in volume; the whisper of the divine blossoming into a song of stunning, heart-breaking complexity.

When he awoke, Emuel was certain that he was now complete, ready to board the Llothriall and take the Word beyond the Storm Wall for the first time.

But then they had come.

The first that Emuel knew of their arrival was the strangulated cry of the guard outside his cell door. A thin trickle of blood found its way towards where he lay, the lock of the door melted, and Kelos and Dunsany forced their way into his life.

In a matter of hours, Emuel had been spirited away from Scholten cathedral and onto the Llothriall, there forced to sing the song that had only just been revealed to him. The Final Faith’s flagship vessel had been stolen for an adventure that saw the deaths of many and the transformation of Emuel’s world. Yet there had never been a time when he had not heard the voice of the Lord of All. With their blades and their inks, the Faith had made him into something truly extraordinary.

But then the Llothriall had come to Morat — the wondrous city riding upon the crest of an eternal wave — and there the Stone Seers had revealed that the tattoos and the emasculation had nothing to do with whether Emuel could hear and channel the song or not.