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“burns like kindling. All flash, and no real heat. But you,” he said. “You smolder, mistress. There is a fire burning within you, but it is a slow burn. It shimmers with heat, waiting only for a breath to fan it to life. Most curious.” A slow grin spread over his mouth. “Most curious, indeed.”
After all, I was not a child of beauty; I was a child of the queer, the strange, and the wild.
“What’s the use of running, if we are on the wrong road?”
Does the crown serve the king or the king serve the crown?
Virtuous people, persistent people, people who sacrificed themselves for the greater good of all, these were the heroes of Mother’s stories.
“Ah, but are we not, in some ways, all trapped in a labyrinth of our own making?” the Goblin King asked lightly.
How did one live without a limb or a hand? You learned to live around it, to absorb its emptiness as a part of yourself.
It seemed a luxury at first, after years of rising before dawn. But in time, not even sleep could pass the time quickly enough. I had my first taste of boredom, and I hated it.
We were as far from each other as we could be in that moment; he on one end of forever, me on the other.
To love is to be selfless.
“It may be He already gave you the answer, but you have not the understanding to see it,”
This was the immortality humans were meant to have: to be remembered by those who loved us long after our bodies had crumbled into dust.
