Hope. Hard won, soaked in blood, a hope that burned as much as it lit her way. The opposite of what I’d nurtured while still on Cadiz. That had been a bright, gleaming thing, reflective like a moon in the sky. Harmless, but without its own warmth.
Hope. Hard won, soaked in blood, a hope that burned as much as it lit her way. The opposite of what I’d nurtured while still on Cadiz. That had been a bright, gleaming thing, reflective like a moon in the sky. Harmless, but without its own warmth.
