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January 17 - January 20, 2024
It was as hard to dance properly, but not nearly as visually spectacular as the Fire Dance. Though perhaps Cliopher was a trifle biased on the subject.
His Radiancy was a great mage, and the subtle magic of space and organization—nothing near as flashy as the infamous poet Fitzroy Angursell’s splendid and storied Bag of Unusual Capacity—had never failed.
okay wait does he still not know at this point??? this is implying he doesn’t but also putting them on the same level which is sillyyyy to me
“No, sir: you don’t understand. You were the man from the proverb—the person I’d always been told not to imitate—the man who came looking for the sea—and then I learned that you found it.”
He found himself silently reciting a passage from Aurora to keep himself settled, and stopped short with an internal dislocation. And then, carefully, consciously, with the greatest deliberation, he started silently reciting the Lays instead.
You are very different than you used to be, and yet far more yourself than you ever were before.”
Fitzroy Angursell, newly released from his gilded prison (his oubliette, as his Radiancy had once called it: Fitzroy Angursell is in an oubliette, he had told Cliopher, when he lay in his canopied bed recovering from a heart attack), was never going to want to … confine himself like that.
“I swept it regularly while his Radiancy was in residence, naturally,” Rhodin said. “For … spies?” “Of course not—no one else knows about it. But it would hardly have stayed secret if he got his hems dusty.
“Did you ask for yourself?” Cliopher felt his hands curling again, as if he needed to stretch them after a long day of writing. He didn’t have to answer. He didn’t. Rhodin was his friend, who had offered him his own dreams, his own wants, who had trusted him with his own secret yearnings. “No,” he said plainly, if quietly. Rhodin nodded, entirely unsurprised, and set his hand on the door. Before he opened it, he said: “You’re allowed to.”
Rhodin gave him a small smile. “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it? To help each other along the way.”
All that time on the boat, and suddenly I can only think about philosophers from uni.” “To our regret,” whispered Toucan.