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March 5 - March 10, 2022
Prayed that somehow, years from now, Yrene Towers would return to this continent, and maybe, just maybe, heal their shattered world a little bit.
Spidersilk. There were legends about the horse-sized stygian spiders that lurked in the woods of the Ruhnn Mountains of the north, spinning their thread for hefty costs. Some said they offered it in exchange for human flesh; others claimed the spiders dealt in years and dreams, and could take either as payment.
If she ever had children. Which seemed highly unlikely.
“That everything has a price.”
“Where do men find it in themselves to do such monstrous things? How do they find it acceptable?”
No; it was the memory of Sam’s face that had stopped her from kissing him.
Like ash. Ash from a world burned into nothing—lying in ruins around her. She could taste the ash of that dead world on her chapped lips, settling on her leaden tongue.
“We have all the time in the world.”
She would tuck Sam into her heart, a bright light for her to take out whenever things were darkest. And then she would remember how it had felt to be loved, when the world had held nothing but possibility. No matter what they did to her, they could never take that away. She would not break.
“My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered, “and I will not be afraid.”
