A composed Amber sitting on the railing beside her had shaken her head. “He’s not afraid,” she had said in a low voice. “The anger that burns in him destroys every other emotion.” Amber’s hair lifted slightly in the rising wind and she had spoken in a distant voice. “Danger cups us under its hand, and we can do nothing but stand witness to the turning of the world. Here we walk on the balancing line between futures. Humanity always believes it decides the fate of the whole world, and so it does, but never in the moment that it thinks it does. The future of thousands ripples like a serpent
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