WIP: Solomon’s Choice – Dain’s Birth
How that that THING be a person, be a being that thrusts its sentience in my face like a rude too-powerful slap?
How that that THING be a person, be a being that thrusts its sentience in my face like a rude too-powerful slap?
Here I stand in the monument to his beloved gone, alone with the weight of decisions I cannot possibly see the ends of, cannot possibly work out all that will come from my choice, and yet I must make it now.