The General of Izril (The Wandering Inn, #6)
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If a rejection was enough to stop you, then perhaps it was wise of you not to choose to be an adventurer after all. Words may burn, but they are a paltry force compared to claws and magic. If you cannot weather rejection, combat would certainly prove your undoing.”
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It was dark. The light of Pisces’ magic was the only source of illumination in the darkness, casting long shadows and making everything seem just as frightening as it was.
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Still, this writer supposes that if any shoulders were equal to the burden, it was those of Niers Astoragon, the Titan of Baleros himself.
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Erin’s voice rose, but before she could shout someone poked her in the side. She looked over and saw Bird glaring reproachfully at her. The Worker raised a finger to his mandibles. “You are interrupting the story. Be shush.”