Into this world comes the ability for a few to experience the full range of emotions. To become alive again.
“‘The Day of Rebirth,’ the old man quietly said at last.
‘Ah, he speaks,’ she said. ‘I had begun to wonder if you were the same manic man I met in the dungeon.’
‘You do realize there hasn’t been a real Rebirth yet.’
‘So say insurgent heretics.’
‘That we are all dead,’ he continued. ‘That at this very moment you and I stand here, hardly more than breathing corpses.’
She unfolded her arms and walked to a small table that held a silver pot of hot tea. ‘And here I was worried you’d gone mad.’
‘Oh, I’m quite mad, I assure you. I have been for a while. Try carrying the truth that the world is dead around with you for nearly a century. To be one of the last of your kind. Too much to say, so much to talk about. Only yourself to talk to. It’ll make you mad.’
She poured the steaming liquid into a porcelain cup. It’s twin sat on the small table nearest the keeper, already to bed and untouched. ‘And yet you believe that I am the one who is mad,’ she said. ‘That in reality you are among the few sane still living.’
‘No, not living.’
She took a sip without tasting it, and then abruptly set the cup down.
‘Peace has reigned for hundreds of years. The Age of Chaos was filled with so much war and pain. Why would you even dream of returning to such a state?’
‘Only corpses rest in peace.’
‘Then leave us dead! Let the living crave what I already have. The world is at peace!’
‘A corpse may rest in peace, but make no mistake, it has no life. No true humanity. No true love or joy, not even true peace, any more than a rock has peace.’
‘And no anguish or ambition or greed or all of the pain that comes with your kind of love.'” pg274-275
What do you think? What does true peace cost?