We Hunt the Flame (Sands of Arawiya)

Men can be such beautiful trash

Her identity, viciously unraveled.

We hunt the flame, the light in the darkness, the good this world deserves.

“Hello, Father,” said Altair. His voice was rough. “Come to gloat?”

The Lion of the Night smiled.

“Have faith, Yasmine.”

“It’s hard.”

“That’s why I said have faith, not have a sweet.”

“‘All right’ is when you’re bleeding black but it’s not as bad as bleeding red. When the world crashes but you’re not alone when it does. When the darkness is absolute but you hunt down the smallest flame and coax it brighter. When you carve the good out of every bad and claim it a victory.”

You didn’t need to know someone’s darkest secrets to wish for their life.

“We’re so quick to dismiss the sentiment as weak, but hearts beat for love, don’t they? A life without purpose may be no life, but a life without love is nothing but an existence.”

“What are titles if not names, Zafira?”

“Everything that exists does so to repress its opposite.”