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Very persistent! Very commendable! Possibly suicidal!
It seemed terribly inconvenient that the brain’s reaction to being placed in mortal jeopardy was to become much stupider.
He couldn’t keep reacting instead of making a conscious decision to act.
Rage flashed through him as well, feeling familiar and deeply comforting in an uncomfortable way he could not define.
Maybe that kind of thing really was normal around here. It made him want to live somewhere else.
Something had made him choose it. Maybe not all at once. Maybe one small choice, and then another, but somehow he’d aimed himself here.
This was a terrible idea. It was a genius idea. He was already committed, he needed to see it through.
If Gavrax was a totally different person, this wasn’t about changing who he was. It was about making different choices altogether.
It hadn’t occurred to him. Nothing ever seemed to occur to him in a reasonable amount of time.
He wished he knew why he jumped straight to lashing out in blind rage. Maybe if he understood his own past better, he could figure out how to stop.
“I guess I want to be the kind of person you would have liked. If you’d met me some other way.”
It’s not like I can do some magic number of good deeds that will somehow balance out the bad things. I can’t unhurt the people I hurt, even if I tried to change the way I act now.”
“Heroes good because wear white and people like. Villains bad because wear black and ugly. Heroes kill goblin children, everybody cheer.
“Dark Wizards come and go,” said Terwyn. “Rodents are forever,” finished Orla.
But silence was not golden. It was also not a liquid.
Actions mattered. The rest was just excuses.
“Does it really matter?” Eliasha asked. “What you want? For the rest of the world, all they have to go on is what they see.”
He remembered how it felt to get the power and fear he’d craved, and how it tasted like ashes.
