He’s my brother. And not by something as accidental as blood… by something much stronger. By choice.
There are two kinds of pain: the sort of pain that makes you strong, or useless pain. The sort of pain that’s only suffering. I have no patience for useless things.
A man is only ever as strong as the people around him: The community he serves and the family he is sworn to protect. Whatever strength he has, he draws from them. And for them, he must be prepared to give everything. His life for his blood, or else everything he has done, has been for nothing. He is nothing.
I am aware that I am surrounded by people who feel that they could do the job better, strong people with powerful characters, but for better or worse, the crown has landed on my head.
They’ve made us both stronger, all of them. They have no idea how strong we are. No idea what we’re going to do to them. We’ve always been together. We’ll always be together. We’re the only two people in the world.
You are so fragile, you mortals, such things of skin and air. Such things of the past. The future belongs to the strong, to the immortal races, to me and my kind.
Their job is to make you feel like you’re about to die. Your job is not to believe them. Your body might get weak, but your mind is strong.