To speak from the heart required more bravery than any physical risk. To heal a wound was so much harder than to cause one. But he’d do it, because it had to be done. He wanted his friend back.
Garric used to wonder what drunks thought about all day as they nursed their mugs of ale and spoke to no one. Then he became one, and he realised they weren’t thinking about anything, and that was the point.
Right and wrong were just a matter of perspective. Stories and histories changed depending on the teller. Justice was an illusion. All that mattered was what you believed.
There were no heroes or villains here, or anywhere. He was just a man, flawed as the next, and he made his choices like the rest of them. Whether they were good choices or bad was a matter of perspective.
And thus, no better way to close this book
Welcome back. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account.