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832 pages, Hardcover
First published August 16, 2022
"All stories are true from a certain point of view. But, I know you want a clearer answer than that. To be honest, I don't. But I'd like to think so. I've often thought that might be the most important part of belief and stories, choosing to believe the pieces we want. Otherwise, what good and fun are they?"
"Stories have grains of truths hidden within them. The problem is pieces and things are lost to time and translation, especially when told distance and traded through different languages. But there are always kernels to find. The wise one knows how to do so."
"I made my way to the bed, setting my belongings down at one side. My
hands went to one of the journals I always carried, turning it open with a brush from my thumb. An old and familiar story flashed before me and I smiled.
It was of a red-haired boy who grew to be a man many thought a demon. Partly on account of his odd hair color, but more so for the deeds he came to be known for and by. By the end of it all, they say he killed a prince. Some say a king. Wizard. Bard. Hero. A villain.
The world saw it easier to mark him both, none, and sometimes, pick between depending on the day. Only he knew the truth.
And now I found myself understanding why he never told us the true accounting of things."
“Everyone wants their story to matter, and they do. But people forget that. Everyone wants someone, just that right someone, to listen attentively with wonder and happiness to the greater moments of their life. And everyone wants someone who’ll sit by and listen without judgment over the moments we fell. Especially when we’ve gone too far, at least for ourselves.
I think I found that person in Eloine.”
“The hardest thing anyone has to go through in their lives is exactly that, Dannil. It is the hardest thing for them. No one can take that away from them. No one can dismiss it out of hand. We are, all of us, given the difficulties we are, and it’s not our place to try to put the hardships of others into places of value. They are hard. That is enough. And they need a place to forget those hardships. And so do you.”
"Knowledge. The first things told and recorded were stories. Not great started with stories-lore-and the tales those people told their families first, before letting them spread wider in the world. You eventually learn everything is a story of something. A story of empires fallen and the ones that took their place. Stories of great men... and the worst of them. Stories of bindings and how they came to be, or how we think they did, and stories of how coinage systems work. But they are all stories first. Before any of the facts, the first keepers of knowledge kept stories."
“Names are parts of our story. The ones we are given, the ones we choose to use, and the ones we let others call us by or gift to them. Together, they form parts of us and our identity, and with that knowing, you come to understand the heart of that person. And a heart, like many things, can be bound.”
“Bondage isn’t done with ropes and chains. No. It’s done with honeyed whispers and poisoned promises never meant to be kept. And if you follow them—believe them—you may never live long enough to realize those promises and dreams on your own.”
“Is he here to perform? Even though I hadn’t developed a keenness for music at that point in my life, I wanted to see my friend in the heart what he loved most. It was right, and more than that, I owed it to him. But, there is a simpler reason well—a better one.
He was my friend.
And that is always reason enough.”
“There’s something to be said in practicing old skills, no matter how impractical they might seem. Trials a lifetime ago had taught me nothing ever loses its usefulness. And that being prepared pays well, sometimes in saving one’s life.”
“Believing is easy. And it’s the hardest thing ever. Just forget everything you’ve learned about how the world works, and believe it works how you want it to, no matter what. And no matter the cost.”
“Belonging is one of the oldest calls and cries our hearts make. And when they go unheard, pain fills those empty spaces. It makes that part of us go distant—grow cold. Ice forms and it’s ever harder to let anyone ever come into those places again.”
“Kindness is freely given, without the want of reciprocation, let, obligation, or lien.”
The worst sort of prison held the Three Tales Tavern.
An emptiness.
A stillness.
And that is always meant to be broken.
It hung like a cord gone taut, quivering and waiting to snap. It was the quiet of held breaths, wanting for a voice, but ready to bite at any that dare make noise. It was the soundlessness of men too tired to speak and with an ear to hear even less. And all the stillness of an audience waiting for the play to begin.
None of the drink left a trail of foam and froth across her lips. It was like it refused to adhere.
"It's a silly thing--a woman was involved."
There always is--always.
Her. How so many stories start.