Demon in White (The Sun Eater, #3)

by Christopher Ruocchio

“I wish things were different.” “Everyone does, in times like these,” I said. “But we do not choose the challenges of the day. Only our answers to them.”

I was a tool, a faithful knight, a pawn moved by other hands, with no will of my own. And pawns move only forward.

Who was it said that our being only what we are remains our chief and unforgivable sin? What a pair of sinners we made: paper and fire, devil to one another.

“But then, so few of us truly think themselves evil. They simply think good and evil matters of opinion, and seek to impose their opinion—which is evil—on good. Nothing is evil in its beginning, it only grows that way.

“Do you know the difference, Hadrian, between magic and prayer?” Now it was my turn to be confused. “What?” I turned to look round at my old tutor. “Humility,” Gibson said, tapping his cane on the tile. “The suppliant prays to superior powers, while the magician commands inferior ones.

“I sometimes think we do more harm than good, teaching what we teach. Reason. Reason is such a small part of being human. We scholiasts climb our towers, look at the sky, and forget the world. So often we don’t see the truth because we won’t look low enough. Chasing reason, chasing facts . . . we forget to be human. To be human is the greater thing, dear boy.

You have heard stories of men driven mad in quiet rooms by the rushing of their own blood. It is not true. It is not the sound that does it, it is themselves. In silence, they are confronted with their own natures—and with nature itself—and cannot look it in the face. As darkness brings forth the creatures of the night, so silence brings forth the things within our hearts . . . if we will but listen to it.