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‘Civilization after civilization, it is the sahtened are ever keen to bow to a perceived necessity, in the belief that necessity forces conformity, and conformity a certain stability In a world shaped into conformity, dissidents stand out, are easily branded and dealt with There is no ue The victient, and wars breed like vermin And people die’

Brys studied the firestorreat beauty He did not know its name, nor the civilization that had birthed it, and, it now struck hiure said, ‘the prophecy approaches its azimuth An emperor shall arise You are from a civilization that sees war as an extension of economics Stacked bones become the foundation for your roads of co untoward in that-’

‘Soacy of crushed cultures speaks its own truth You intend to conquer the Tiste Edur You claim that each circumstance is different, unique, but it is neither different nor unique It is all the saht proves the virtue of your cause But I tell you this, Brys Beddict, there is no such thing as destiny Victory is not inevitable Your ene, in your erence and iaze to shy away It speaks your language, takes your words and uses theainst you It mocks your belief in truths, for it has made itself the arbiter of those truths’

‘Lether is not a tyranny-’

‘You assume the spirit of your civilization is personified in your benign king It is not Your king exists because it is deereed, a lory It cannot be defeated, only annihilated’ Another gesture towards the fiery chaos below ‘That is your only hope of salvation, Brys Beddict For greed kills itself, when there is nothing left to hoard, when the countless legions of labourers are naught but bones, when the grisly face of starvation is revealed in the od is fallen He crouches now, seeding devastation Rise and fall, rise and fall, and with each renewal the guiding spirit is less, weaker, htly chained to a vision bereft of hope’

‘Why does this god do this to us?’

‘Because he knows naught but pain, and yearns only to share it, to visit it upon all that lives, all that exists’

‘Why have you shown me this?’

‘I make you witness, Brys Beddict, to the syure was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I advised you to not look for hope froht but lies Yet hope exists Seek for it, Brys Beddict, in the one who stands at your side, froer upon the other side of the street Be brave enough to endeavour to cross that street Look neither skyward nor upon the ground Hope persists, and its voice is coan to fade

The figure at his side spoke one last time ‘That is all I would tell you All I can tell you’

He opened his eyes, and found hi around him Kettle still held his hand in her cold clasp

‘You will help me now?’ she asked

‘The dweller within the to of that’

‘He never does’