I Smiled,"deoch, My Heart Is Made Of

Then I Felt Something Inside Me Break And Music Began To Pour Out Into The Quiet. My Fingers Danced; Intricate And Quick They Spun Something Gossamer And Tremulous Into The Circle Of Light Our Fire Had Made. The Music Moved Like A Spiderweb Stirred By A Gentle Breath, It Changed Like A Leaf Twisting As It Falls To The Ground, And It Felt Like Three Years Waterside In Tarbean, With A Hollowness Inside You And Hands That Ached From The Bitter Cold.

Each Woman Is Like An Instrument, Waiting To Be Learned, Loved, And Finely Played, To Have At Last Her Own True Music Made.

It’s Not Over If You’re Still Here,” Chronicler Said. “it’s Not A Tragedy If You’re Still Alive.

There Is A Sort Of Camaraderie That Rarely Exists Except Between Men Who Have Fought The Same Enemies And Know The Same Women.

Over The Last Month I Had Pulled A Woman From A Blazing Inferno. I Had Called Fire And Lighting Down On Assassins And Escaped To Safety. I Had Even Killed Something That Could Have Been Either A Dragon Or A Demon, Depending On Your Point Of View. But There In That Room Was The First Time I Actually Felt Like Any Sort Of Hero. If You Are Looking For A Reason For The Man I Would Eventually Become, If You Are Looking For A Beginning, Look There.