I have lived through this story before. I have lived through this lie before. History repeats itself and I watch it unfold around me, knowing that there is nothing I can do to interrupt the endless cycle.
We spoke at length, Cyfier and I. We spoke of nothing. He has seized control of his House, making enemies of allies and creating dangers where none need be.
One day it will change. One day I will be the man you knew. One day it will be safe. These words he speaks, but I no longer believe. I have heard them all before. Excuses to cover rejections. I know this tale. I know how it ends.
Our talk was interrupted by the man who had so recently offered his "services" against Guvadan. Cyfier referred to him as Eovad after he shot an acorn at us from a nearby roof. Posturing ensued. Once Cyfier had departed, this Eovad and I engaged in a lengthy discussion from which I learned more than he might have liked. But does it matter?
Another tale repeated. The same outcome assured.
Safety is the dream of a child. Victory is the delusion of soldiers. What he waits for will not come. What he would have me wait for will not come. I tire of the lies.
