To do what was required of her meant in most cases she needed to silence the part of herself that called out with the cries of the sinking crews. On her last run, as soon as she and her crew boarded the vessel and began tearing apart their commodities, she realized immediately it was not like any of her other assignments…
Masym Helmund was a crafty man, and he’d been in the game for a long, long time. Approaching his golden years, he was hellbent on reaching retirement age so that he might, finally, take his scales to a distant town. Perhaps Meekhill, where he could enjoy the seaside calm without the ceaseless drone of busybody townsfolk.
While a creeping winter frost covered his desk side window, Enryn Hile sat with his chin in his palm and half-listened to the recollection of national history, a piece of literature published some century before he was born that told about the great feats of Athella and their companions through the years.
The Nail Ward, as they called it, was as miserable as it looked from the outside. The thousands of needles covering the floor and walls made it impossible to relax, and sleep was terribly out of the question.
So Kerrick stood in the corner waiting, patiently, for the sunrise.
“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations.”
“Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”
The Grimoire of Finality 