The Raven Scholar

It is one thing to admit to being feared, or hated. Quite another to admit that you are unloved, and lonely, and that it is taking all your strength to hide it.

Life is a puzzle with no answer; a game with no rules; a maze with no exit, except death. And still we stumble on through the dark, creating form where there is none, seeing patterns that are not there.

How do you trap a raven? Ask them a question, and they'll trap you for half an hour.

We are here, exactly where we should be, at exactly the right moment, because we are the Raven, and we are magnificent.

Sorry — must dash, nothing to do

He hunched his shoulders, tucked his head and whispered, sadly, I understand. I am the Solitary Raven, doomed to be alone and lonely, spurned by all. —I can’t have you shouting in my ear like that. I can’t think straight. I will go to my field and contemplate my own wretchedness. In the rain.

Victory, like happiness, is a state we pass through.

She rubbed a hand over her heart. It was like reading a book, she decided. You read the book and the words became scenes, the characters became people and they lived inside you. She had dreamed of Sol, she had read his stories, and it had opened up a space inside her, where he could exist.

The Fox’s ears pricked. It liked howevers. There were opportunities to be made from howevers.

No, Neema, petty grudges are an excellent spur to action. Part of my magnificent role as the Solitary Raven is to be a source of constant irritation to the Flock.

She clomped her way back to the second palace, down the service paths in the dark, and was almost home when she walked through a hedge. This wasn’t intentional—one moment she was not walking through a hedge, and the next moment she was. It was a hedge ambush.

There were many things Neema might do, in an emergency. Stealing from a library was not one of them.

Respect, that’s all we demand. Recognition of our magnificence. Offerings. Love. Fear. Trembling awe. Worship. Shiny things. Blood sacrifice, some of us very much enjoy blood sacrifice. Truly, we ask for so little.

You used me.” “Well—as you always say, Fenn—that’s the curse of being useful.

Cain had to admit, she looked hot. They both did. Rivenna was like an evil butterfly and Ruko was like a big, sexy wardrobe that might kill you, and these were both very much Cain’s type. Cain had a lot of types.

She has learned from her mistakes with Yana and Ruko, and now she makes new ones.

I understand. I am the Solitary Raven, doomed to be alone and lonely, spurned by all.

Forty acres of land, and not one single flaw, unless you found perfection itself a flaw, which Cain did.

Each day,” the Scriptures said, “in times of light, in times of shadow, seek for one small pearl of joy and you shall find it.

This is the fatal flaw of the Dragons. They hoard a thousand treasures, and know them not.

There is a lesson for you. Never trust things that smell of gingerbread.

But we all have a spark buried within us, Yanara, waiting to catch fire. We all have a loss. From the darkness comes the light.

We live on the gifts we give and the greatest gift is love.

People of Orrun,” he called up to the stalls. The crowds fell silent. This was the first time he had addressed them. “I am a warrior, not an executioner,” Ruko said. And left the platform. The square erupted.

We live on in the gifts we give… And the greatest gift is love.

People were puzzles, Neema thought. Not fun ones, with prizes. They were puzzles that made no sense, and gave no answer, and broke your heart for no reason.

[I]n the day he is strong. But at night, he cries himself to sleep.

Life is a joke and death is the punchline.

To her horror Neema found herself mimicking the movement with her left arm and right leg, jolting them forward in tandem while rotating her wrist and ankle. "Excuse me, I have to turn around for a second," Cain said, and did so. Which was a shame, because Neema missed his first genuine expression of the evening.

I love inappropriate moments. They’re my favourite moments.