Mark Cheverton · 153 pages
Rating: (1.1K votes)
“A shiver ran down him spine. If this nightmare was remotely true,”
“You suck, Gameknight, Dreadlord typed from jail, the respawn point after your character died in this game of team PvP. Yeah, thanks a lot, Salz added. LOL, Gameknight replied then turned and headed back into the heart of the battle.”
“So Crafter, if Digger is now the new Crafter of the village, what are you?” Gameknight asked.”
“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains immortal.” —Albert Pine”
“I turned to leave and paused before the gap in the ruined wall. "One last thing, Your Majesty. I'd like a name I can put into my report, something shorter than typing out 'The Leader of the Southern Shapechanger Faction.' What should I call you?"
"Lord."
I rolled my eyes.
He shrugged. "It's short.”
“His way had therefore come full circle, or rather had taken the form of an ellipse or a spiral, following as ever no straight unbroken line, for the rectilinear belongs only to Geometry and not to Nature and Life.”
“I will go,” he said. “I will go to Troy.”
The rosy gleam of his lip, the fevered green of his eyes. There was not a line anywhere on his face, nothing creased or graying; all crisp. He was spring, golden and bright. Envious death would drink his blood, and grow young again.
He was watching me, his eyes as deep as earth.
“Will you come with me?” he asked.
The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death. “Yes,” I whipsered. “Yes.”
Relief broke in his face, and he reached for me. I let him hold me, let him press us length to length so close that nothing might fit between us.
Tears came, and fell. Above us, the constellations spun and the moon paced her weary course. We lay stricken and sleepless as the hours passed.”
“She wanted something she didn't have words for- peace, numbness, something.”
“Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?”
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