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Because sometimes the things that cut closest to your heart deserve the weight of being last.
But a heart can grieve in silence, so I sink to my knees beside Corian’s body and allow the tears to come.
DEO OPTIMO MAXIMO … all of it feels like a dream.
No one spared me a glance. There were too many kids like me fighting to survive in the shanties. I was just another face lost in the crowd.
I’m going to find a way to walk through life with courage seared into my bones.
A rat and a prisoner of war. Perhaps we’re not so different after all.
It’s not our home. But you try your best to take your home with you, even if it’s a shack in the middle of a desperate place.
“Aren’t we all always searching for someone to understand us?
“Everyone has a different story.”
The truth is, for the past few weeks, when I’ve struggled to find a reason to get up every morning, I think of my mother. I think of this tiny home. And I always push myself out of bed.
“No fish,” Red then says, his accent thick. We all stare blankly at him. “Well, we’re set,” Adena says. “He can say ‘no fish.’ We’ll all be chatting together in no time.”
“You always thought it was a waste of time,” I reply. “I do.” Adena rubs her neck. “But sometimes you cope by wasting time, yes?
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to be drunk.” “Remember me as a supportive mother.”
It is always the gentle ones I fear for the most, those willing to bare their hearts, who grieve for others and feel happy for others’ happiness.
Can you be kind and a killer? Can you be gentle and a weapon of war?
It’s the wild hope of someone who dares to think we all might live long enough to be here again. That it’s not foolish to want.
“Sometimes a crime is an act of heroism,”
The reason for our mission’s failure is the same as the reason for our survival.
If I could laugh, I would. Somehow, against all odds, this damn mouse has managed to survive Mara’s prison, the warfront, the Federation, the labs, the fighting. Just like Red.
“For Mara?” Adena signs. “For the idea of Mara,” Jeran replies. “Ideas are nothing but air,” Adena mutters. “Then we’re truly lost,” I sign.
She frowns and shakes her head. “For you,” she says in Basean. “I just want to see you eat.”
“Darkness,” I tell her. “Disguised as light.”
Maybe here, in the end, even a monster can recognize that he’s about to lose his son.
Why would you do this? they seem to ask in their gazes. Because my mother taught me that, in spite of everything, I must choose goodness.
If we’re going out, then I’m grateful to be alongside this team. Rats, orphans, disgraced children. We are Mara’s saviors.
