Wars come and go; politics endure.
Night breeds its own sort of anticipation.
Like a falling star, he descended on the Tarbh Cró, a Cassiline berserker, his sword biting and slashing like a silver snake.
Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight.
Why is there ever this perverse cruelty in humankind, that makes us hurt most those we love best?
Love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel. It is inexorable as the tides, and life and death alike follow in its wake.