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For those who live their nightmares, so that others may have their dreams.
“Well, I didn’t mean for him to leave again,” Rusarius grumbled. “But I’ve said it a thousand times, and I’ll say it again. No cooked food in the library. I, myself, only eat dry crackers while working here. And I’m here for days sometimes. And I lean out of a window to avoid crumbs!”
Fisher was death incarnate, and he was coming right for me.
I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.
‘Never forget. Monsters thrive best in the dark. Commit all you read here to memory. Prepare for war!!’
“What are you doing right now?” I asked him. “Aside from prodding this fire with a stick and reading this?” he asked, holding the book up again. “Nothing much. Why do you ask?” “Want to come and set fire to some far more exciting things?” He snapped his book closed with a flourish. “Absolutely, yes.”
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
By righteous hands, deliverance of the unrighteous dead.
