The old queen had failed them so miserably... She was such a bitter disappointment. But Ursula was different. There was no one to distract her, no one for her to love. She was alone in the world, alone in her grief, and alone with her pain. No, she wouldn't disappoint them. Unlike the old queen, Ursula would be able to fill her heart with hate.
Merik swiveled his wrists slowly. At night, the temple was too dark to see the blood dripping from his arms, pooling on the granite flagstones. He felt it falling, though. Just as he felt the new, burned flesh on his hands stretching beneath torn gloves.Yet even as pain shivered through his body, he couldn__ help but think: Only a fool ignores Noden__ gifts. For if Merik looked at this case of mistaken identity from the just the right angle, it could in fact all be seen as boon.The assassin in the night. The fire on the Jana. The attack of a Waterwitch in Pin__ Keep. Each event had led Merik here, to Noden__ temple. To a fresco of the god__ left hand.To the Fury.Twice now, he__ been mistaken for that monstrous demigod, and twice now, it had worked in Merik__ favor. So why not continue using the fear invoked from that name? Was Merik not doing the Fury__ work by bringing justice to the wronged and punishment to the wicked? It was clear that Nubrevnans needed Merik__ help, and his sister Vivia_Well, she was stil out there. Alive. Wretched.So was it not Merik__ moral duty to keep her off the throne? And he could do that if he could just prove she had indeed tried to kill him__hat it was she who__ purchased that prisoner from Vizer Linday, and she who__ sent the prisoner to kill Merik.Yes. This was right. This was Noden__ will. It throbbed in Merik__ wounds. It shivered across his scalp and down his raw back.Take the god__ gift. Become the Fury.Merik rose, stiff but strong, from the temple floor, and with a new purpose in his movements, he tugged his hood, his sleeves, his gloves into place. Then he turned away from the Fury__ gruesome fresco and set out to bring justice to the wronged.Punishment to the wicked.
Windwitch
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Merik swiveled his wrists slowly. At night, the temple was too dark to see the blood dripping from his arms, pooling on the granite flagstones. He felt it falling, though. Just as he felt the new, burned flesh on his hands stretching beneath torn gloves.Yet even as pain shivered through his body, he couldn__ help but think: Only a fool ignores Noden__ gifts. For if Merik looked at this case of mistaken identity from the just the right angle, it could in fact all be seen as boon.The assassin in the night. The fire on the Jana. The attack of a Waterwitch in Pin__ Keep. Each event had led Merik here, to Noden__ temple. To a fresco of the god__ left hand.To the Fury.Twice now, he__ been mistaken for that monstrous demigod, and twice now, it had worked in Merik__ favor. So why not continue using the fear invoked from that name? Was Merik not doing the Fury__ work by bringing justice to the wronged and punishment to the wicked? It was clear that Nubrevnans needed Merik__ help, and his sister Vivia_Well, she was stil out there. Alive. Wretched.So was it not Merik__ moral duty to keep her off the throne? And he could do that if he could just prove she had indeed tried to kill him__hat it was she who__ purchased that prisoner from Vizer Linday, and she who__ sent the prisoner to kill Merik.Yes. This was right. This was Noden__ will. It throbbed in Merik__ wounds. It shivered across his scalp and down his raw back.Take the god__ gift. Become the Fury.Merik rose, stiff but strong, from the temple floor, and with a new purpose in his movements, he tugged his hood, his sleeves, his gloves into place. Then he turned away from the Fury__ gruesome fresco and set out to bring justice to the wronged.Punishment to the wicked.
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This mundus tenebrosus, this shaddowy world of Mankind, is sunk into Night; there is not a Field without its Spirits, nor a City without its Daemons, and the Lunaticks speak Prophesies while the Wise men fall into the Pitte. We are all in the Dark, one with another. And, as the Inke stains the Paper on which it is spilt and slowly spreads to Blot out the Characters, so the Contagion of darkness and malefaction grows apace until all becomes unrecognizable. Thus it was with the Witches who were tryed by Swimming not long before, since once the Prosecution had commenced no Stop could be put to the raving Women who came forward: the number of Afflicted and Accused began to encrease and, upon Examination, more confess'd themselves guilty of Crimes than were suspected of. And so it went, till the Evil revealed was so great that it threatened to bring all into Confusion.And yet in the way of that Philosophie much cryed up in London and elsewhere, there are those like Sir Chris. who speak only of what is Rational and what is Demonstrated, of Propriety and Plainness. Religion Not Mysterious is their Motto, but if they would wish the Godhead to be Reasonable why was it that when Adam heard that Voice in the Garden he was afraid unto Death? The Mysteries must become easy and familiar, it is said, and it has now reached such a Pitch that there are those who wish to bring their mathematicall Calculations into Morality, viz. the Quantity of Publick Good produced by any Agent is a compound Ratio of his Benevolence and Abilities, and such like Excrement. They build Edifices which they call Systems by laying their Foundacions in the Air and, when they think they are come to sollid Ground, the Building disappears and the Architects tumble down from the Clowds. Men that are fixed upon matter, experiment, secondary causes and the like have forgot there is such a thing in the World which they cannot see nor touch nor measure: it is the Praecipice into which they will surely fall.
I tell you, Richard, if you ever get ready to sell your soul, don__ bother to sell it to another human being. It__ bad business to even consider such a thing.
What some people need," said Magrat, to the world in general, "is a bit more heart.""What some people need," said Granny Weatherwax, to the stormy sky, "is a lot more brain."Then she clutched at her hat to stop the wind from blowing i