These warriors of the Sacred Band were inscrutable; they loved their war and death and picking through the bones of time to sort out right from wrong, good from bad, holy from profane, honor from dishonor.

"Mercy is not in favor in my heavens today," says Vashanka, unforgiving and combative, folding vast arms and spearing Harmony with lightning that crackles from his gaze.

If, as you teach, the universe has no beginning and no end, why should we?

Deception is a tactic: use it. Do whatever it takes to win.

Death's easy to find. If She wants you, you'll meet Her here as well as anywhere.

This is for you. A mage named Randal told me to give it to the Band if you ever came back. 'It surmounts evil,' he told me, 'keeps doom at bay.'

You get what you expect. Expect to heal. Expect victory.