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‘You take it with a grimace and not much else. There are many forms of courage, I believe, most of which pass unseen by the majority of us. It’s not always about facing death, is it? Sometimes it’s about facing life.’
You offer us the freedom of choice, yet avow that to turn away is to lose all hope of glory, of salvation. What sort of freedom is that?
Atri-Ceda Aranict drew one more time on the stick and then flicked the stub into the fire. Into flames… She held the smoke in her lungs as long as she could, as if in refusing to breathe out she could hold back time itself.
‘Yes. A part of me chooses to believe that if I weep long enough, I’ll weep myself out. And then, in the ashes – in the aftermath – will be born something else.’ ‘Like what?’ Errastas demanded. Sechul Lath shrugged. ‘Hope.’
‘Of course, drinking is the sweet surrender. The sanctum of cowards – and we’re all cowards, us drunks, and don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. It’s the only thing we’re good at, mostly, because it’s both our reason and the means by which we run away. From everything.
‘That’s all you have to say? This is a momentous scene, you fat fool! This is where everything really, truly, finally begins! So squeeze the ale from your brain, mortal, and say something worthy of your kind. You stand before a god! Speak your eloquence for all posterity. Be profound!’ ‘Profound…huh.’ Temper was silent for a long moment, studying the cobbles of the alley mouth. And then he lifted his helmed head, faced Shadowthrone, and said, ‘Fuck off.’
‘The gods have been kicking us around for a long time. When do we say enough?’ ‘And in their absence, High Fist, will we manage things any better?’ ‘No,’ Paran said, walking past him, ‘but at least then we won’t have the option of blaming someone else.’
‘Even a man who has lived a life of sorrows will ask for one more day.’
‘This Crippled God – he is a stranger to us all.’ ‘It is enough that in the place he calls home, he is no stranger.’
‘It is not enough to wish for a better world for the children. It is not enough to shield them with ease and comfort. Lostara Yil, if we do not sacrifice our own ease, our own comfort, to make the future’s world a better one, then we curse our own children. We leave them a misery they do not deserve; we leave them a host of lessons unearned.
