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men who waded into waters claiming they could swim should not need a raft.
“The earth beneath your feet does not care you will be king. Nor the water in your cup. Nor the air you breathe. You must speak to them as equal, or even better, as supplicant.”
“Delilah Bard,” she said. “But Lila will do.” Lila. A soft name but she used it like a knife, slashing out on the first syllable, the second barely a whisper of metal through air.
“Death comes for everyone,” she said simply. “I’m not afraid of dying. But I am afraid of dying here.” She swept her hand over the room, the tavern, the city. “I’d rather die on an adventure than live standing still.”
Love doesn’t buy us anything, so be glad for what you have and who you have because you may want for things but you need for nothing.”
Kell had told Lila that magic was like an extra sense, layered on top of sight and smell and taste, and now she understood. It was everywhere. In everything. And it was intoxicating.
It is yet in our hands to rekindle the flames of Magic from the half-forgotten ashes in our hearth. For somewhere, in among the coals, an ember smolders, waiting only for a breath, a bit of straw.
