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You didn’t get to be the villain of one story, she supposed, unless you were the hero of another.
“Hubris, man. It’s killed more heroes than monsters ever did.”
Glory fades. Gold slips through our fingers like water, or sand. Love is the only thing worth fighting for.
“It’s better that cowards flee before a battle than during one,”
Some of us—most of us, probably—will need to sacrifice everything so the rest have a chance to survive.”
“If not me, who?”
When you fought alongside those whose lives meant more to you than your own, succumbing to fear simply wasn’t an option, because nothing—not a lifeless Horde, or a vengeful queen, or even a staggeringly huge, zombified giant—was as scary as the prospect of losing them.
“We were giants, once.”
evil thrives on division. It stokes the embers of pride and prejudice until they become an inferno that might one day devour us all.
