Büyük Büyük Dalip
@Haqleah
Sa souvraya niende misain ye.
The lesser creatures of this and every other world do not question any of this. Their comprehension is implicit. When we kill the beasts living on this plain, when we close our jaws about the back of the neck. When we grip hard to choke off the wind pipe. When we do all this, we watch, with intimate compassion, with profound understanding, the light of life leave our victim’s eyes. We see the struggle give way to acceptance, and in our souls, Destriant, we weep.’
Reklam
‘Lazy,’ pronounced Tarr. ‘Overconfident. Fiddler was right.’
‘Of course he was,’ said Smiles. ‘He’s Fiddler. It’s always the problem, the people in charge never listen to the people in the know. It’s like two different worlds, two different languages.’
‘The Errant’s game is one of fate,’ Banaschar said, rubbing at his face. ‘He uses—abuses—proclivities, tendencies. He nudges, pushes over the edge.’ He blinked blearily at the two skeletons. ‘To take him down, you need to take advantage of that selfsame obsession. You need to set a trap.’
‘You have suffered some,’ said the Assail, ‘since I last saw you, Errastas.’
‘Laughter from the Abyss, Setch, have you seen yourself lately?’
‘The forgotten must never complain.’ He’d found a crystal goblet and he now held it up and studied the flickering flames trapped in the amber wine. ‘When I look at myself, I see… embers. They dim, they die. It is,’ he added, ‘well.’ And he drank.
‘So tell me,’ ventured Knuckles, ‘the tale.’
‘What tale?’
‘The one that took your eye.’
The Errant scowled and looked away, his good mood evaporating. ‘Mortals,’ he said, ‘will eat anything.’
Reklam