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It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all—but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.
Still… I could not help drinking in the view. It is important to appreciate beauty, even when it is evil.
Consider: An immensely powerful being is yours to command. He must obey your every whim. Wouldn’t the temptation to diminish him, to humble him and make yourself feel powerful by doing so, be almost irresistible? I think it would be. Yes, it definitely would be.
The priests’ lesson: beware the Nightlord, for his pleasure is a mortal’s doom. My grandmother’s lesson: beware love, especially with the wrong man.
In a child’s eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.
So there was love, once. More than love. And now there is more than hate. Mortals have no words for what we gods feel. Gods have no words for such things. But love like that doesn’t just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always a little love left, underneath. Yes. Horrible, isn’t it?
Anger is pointless. I disagree. I think anger can be very powerful under the right circumstances.
There was sorrow in his voice. It never faded, for him. How terrible to be a god of change and endure grief unending.
I understand now. I have chosen who will shape me.
“Love can level the ground between mortals and gods,
So dizzying, this constant switch between matters mundane and divine.
I carry the burdens of so many dead women.
