“That you may love at all, de León.” Jean-François tilted his head, pouting in thought. “Perhaps that is why you mortals burn so fierce; because you know the flame must be so brief. For we immortals, there is only loss. All affection fades. Everything dies. Only the blood brings true peace. And you know that joy too; that perfect moment, as darkness is riven crimson and we feel truly alive.” The historian looked the Last Silversaint over, smiling. “But you are also a man. You feel as a man, Gabriel. Live and love and lose as a man. One foot in two worlds, the suffering and bliss of both at
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