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“I can’t fight,” he said softly. “You did before.” He closed his eyes and rested his head forward against the bars. “I’m so tired.” He didn’t mean the physical fatigue, though eight months eating leftovers had stolen much of the lean strength he’d cultivated while at war. He felt tired. Even when he got enough sleep. Even on those rare days when he wasn’t hungry, cold, or stiff from a beating. So tired … “You have been tired before.” “I’ve failed, spirit,” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut. “Must you torment me so?”
But expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.
“Ignorance is hardly unusual, Miss Davar. The longer I live, the more I come to realize that it is the natural state of the human mind. There are many who will strive to defend its sanctity and then expect you to be impressed with their efforts.”
Sometimes we find it hardest to accept in others that which we cling to in ourselves.
But as he settled down on the ground to plan, he felt that tiny warmth burning steadily within him. It was the warmth of decisions made and purpose seized. It was responsibility.
The hallmark of insecurity is bravado.
