And then there’s Elian, who gave me a blade instead of stabbing me with it, standing behind me now. The mercy he practices and the loyalty he has earned are both ideals that my mother would sooner burn out of me—because mercy is never an option, and loyalty is always taken—but those very emotions my mother said made me weak seem to make him strong. He’s a warrior who is my opposite in every way and yet, in some ways, maybe fierceness alone, we seem to be the same.
