The Bright Sword

by Lev Grossman

The age of enchantment was gone, it had slipped away mere moments before Collum arrived, as the day steals away across the land, silently and without ceremony, to distant parts unknown. Without Arthur they were all ordinary men, their names written in sand, playing with sandcastles, and soon time would roll over them like a wave and smooth it all away to nothing.

A lot of heroes hate themselves, it’s why they work so hard to make everybody love them.”