I won't go back and live in the sea again.
It's all right. Things as they once were will never be again, but it's all right.
Gather the shards of your courage. Patch together what resolve you can. We'll find this thing - and kill it.
The universe forgives those who give until their hearts are aching and their spirits weak, and finds a way to renew all strength and cure all ills, in this world or the next, if a soul can just have faith.
Such hubris could only come from a man's mouth.
These Stepsons tread where mortals don't belong, some of us think. They seek out battle high above their station. Who knows what powers may yet take them and their mystic allies to task, bring them their comeuppance?