quite eradicated
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There was much to be said for the ideas of mythology as they applied to real men. Gabriel had become such a thing, Ezekiel realized, and he knew that his grandmother would in time. She was physically here yet, though, and until she passed on or until her stories were told throughout the land, as well they should. The blonde man held the hot tea in his hands and listened, his amber eyes gleaming in the firelight. Perhaps one day too, he would cross that line from a man into a myth.
“Scintilla sounds much like Inferni, Aemon.” Indeed, it did. Ezekiel could see the grace in fighting (and dying) for a cause. He had not lost his life yet, but he had come close. Perhaps one day he would…but not before he had left his own mark on this earth. “War is a part of our history as well…”
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