[ That's where I'm going, he'd told Benedict. After.
But it's one thing to want the Circles restored. It's another, to know the blood that'll take. Self-organization hasn't worked. Reforms keep getting thrown back. Every year there's less room for a peaceful way out, for a world more like Cumberland; less like the Gallows. A generation of mages have only known this. The continent crawls with untrained apostates, folks primed to be sad and angry and frightened,
(If I'm being generous, Antosha. He was frightened.)
The creak of a chair. Fingers tent over eyes and nose. Where and how Riftwatch should fall into that new, ]
no subject
But it's one thing to want the Circles restored. It's another, to know the blood that'll take. Self-organization hasn't worked. Reforms keep getting thrown back. Every year there's less room for a peaceful way out, for a world more like Cumberland; less like the Gallows. A generation of mages have only known this. The continent crawls with untrained apostates, folks primed to be sad and angry and frightened,
(If I'm being generous, Antosha. He was frightened.)
The creak of a chair. Fingers tent over eyes and nose. Where and how Riftwatch should fall into that new, ]
Guess we'll know when they ask for amputations.
[ A bad joke. ]