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For most people, if it’s a choice between struggling with parents who don’t get you and dealing with dragons, it’s an easy one. Give me dragons any day.
“I am not a girl, and you are no knight. A knight’s duty is to defend the defenseless, to protect the weak. Not take advantage and wield their power over someone who cannot fight for themselves. You should know that. If you don’t, you’re not being taught how to be a knight, you’re being taught how to be a bully.”
“Only cowards attack people smaller than them, and I’m not afraid of cowards.”
“What are you, anyway?” Edwyn pants, pressing as hard as he can against my blade. “Are you a freak in a dress or a freak with a sword?” “Both,” I snarl back. “And proud of it.”
I squirm, trying not to understand how that feels quite so much. Not magic, obviously, but that feeling when your body feels too small for everything inside you.
“If you believe anything, please believe this. You are worthy and you are loved, exactly as you are.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I tell him. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be brave too.”
“Winning doesn’t always feel like winning. Sometimes it feels like losing, and twice as scary.”
Brave is being scared and doing it anyway, so let’s do it.
It’s easier to face monsters when the battle’s shared.
“Anything to put off going home, I suppose.” “That’s the spirit!”
Love is a hard dream to put down.
“Dreams come with conditions, and peace comes with a price,
“Would it be bad manners to send a message out to Dumoor saying something like ‘Sorry, let’s put a pin in that war we were about to wage; we’ve got some messed-up kids who need our full attention’?”
“Choice is a luxury few have,
“No one’s saying you’re not capable,” he assures me. “You have already proven yourself tenfold. And that’s the problem. You’re twelve, Callie. Go and be twelve.”
Asking kids who have never been kids to play is like asking a Westmoor pony to be a warhorse.
Magic is weird and senseless and whatever you want it to be. And it’s okay.
“I just mean…normal’s just the word they give you to make you fit, or feel bad about not fitting,” I push on. “Everyone is different, even if they’re pretending not to be. No one who matters wants to help you be anything other than what you want to be.
It’s one thing to be brave in theory. It’s something else entirely putting it straight into practice.
Bravery is easier said than done; it’s easier to fight dragons than give in and trust.
“How long are we expected to suffer the disparity on the promise that it’s temporary if we’re not even allowed to fight for our own equality?”
Hitting things with sticks might not help us take down a dragon, but it goes a long way to making us feel better
how niceness can sometimes feel a whole bunch worse than meanness, and the certainty that it means something more,