Path to the Unknown Quotes

“What a strange rain,” the girl said, holding out her hand. The first scarlet drop landed on her tiny palm, then another, and another, and suddenly, the rain turned red. The smell of copper filled her nostrils, and the raindrops became heavy and evil. The girl was being held in her father’s strong arms before she even knew what was happening. Pale and wide-eyed, he ran with her into the house. “Daddy, what’s going on?” The little girl screamed.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“There was a meaning in all of this. A deep, mysterious meaning, the mere glimpse of which terrified Anise. She was terrified to realize that she was just a grain of sand in the vast universe. Merely a small spark of life that was destined to disappear one day to make room for another. Sparks combined into light. And light needed darkness to exist. They were connected. Like life and death. Like a flower and a name. Like external and internal energy. What people shared was actually a single whole.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“He simply appeared not that long ago. With two girls and an old man.” “An old man?” Tom snorted. “And you’re as fresh as a daisy?”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Who was she?” Tom brought the bottle up to his lips, but there wasn’t a single drop of wine left. He cursed, slammed the cork back in, and hung the bottle on his belt. At this rate, he’d soon become like Drunken Leaf, who’d mastered the Drunken Sword style.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“The sabers struck, making sparks fly off their swords. They fell to the sand and instantly melted it into glass.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“He could see in her eyes that she wasn’t lying. However, Hadjar tended to believe South Wind’s words: only men can tell if another man is lying, and the same is true for women.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Seeing the confusion on his face,”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Hashim looked at Morgan and his beard twitched.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“By the High Heavens,” Hadjar breathed, and tried really hard to erase the memory from his mind, “I was…rapping… in Russian...”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“The old man held out a paper scroll, not mere parchment. It was a clear sign of wealth and status. Not every noble family could afford to use paper for invitations. The very fact that Hadjar was being visited by the clan’s attorney, and not by a simple servant, spoke volumes. “Thank-” Hadjar reached out, almost closing his fingers around the scroll, but the old man suddenly loosened his grip. Caught in the wind, the invitation, decorated with monograms and tied with a scarlet ribbon, fell to the dirt at Hadjar’s feet. The old man didn’t apologize. He stood there, with his hand still outstretched, a sneer on his lips, radiating complete confidence in his superiority. A clear example that old age didn’t mean one also gained intelligence or wisdom. He’d lived long enough for his hair to turn gray, but not long enough to acquire a brain. He didn’t even realize how simply and blatantly he was being used. Hadjar, just as the old man had expected, bent down to pick up the invitation, dusted it off, and held it without putting it away in his spatial artifact, as was required by etiquette. “You didn’t have to bow to me, young man,” the old man grunted. This was quite a serious insult. Being the personal disciple of a great hero made Hadjar equal in status to the senior heirs of aristocratic families. He was at the very top of the social structure of Dahanatan. But Hadjar didn’t really care about any of that. The power he possessed was insignificant in his opinion, and ever since he’d eaten those first scraps in Primus’ dungeon, he’d stopped caring about whether he was a Prince or a circus freak. Titles didn’t matter. The important thing was that the old man was a servant, and Hadjar was almost an aristocrat. The lawyer’s words were akin to the old man throwing a glove in Hadjar’s face. Hadjar looked behind his visitor, at the dark carriage emblazoned with the white coat of arms of the Predatory Blades clan. Brustor would have to try a little harder. So far, his provocations weren’t even a match for the insults that Hadjar had received during his meetings with Emperor Morgan. Shocking the old man, Hadjar bowed deeply. “Only a silly young man,” he said, straightening back up, “doesn’t feel respect toward someone whose hair is whiter than his.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown