Do I want you to talk to me, old friend? Do I need your reminders, your wry confirmation that faith is for fools?
As for presumption, I honestly couldn’t care less. Truth can’t be danced around, not out here, not now, not ever again.
“Since when is speaking the truth presumptuous?” “You are young, aren’t you?”
“Heed the lesson there, son.” “What lesson?” “Every decision you make can change the world. The best life is the one the gods don’t notice. You want to live free, boy, live quietly.” “I want to be a soldier. A hero.” “You’ll grow out of it.”
— all these Dark Lords intent on creating wastelands packed with enslaved victims ... for what?