The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can__ say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was _ but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I__e seen before _ and I__e seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn__ listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. __on__ say I didn__ warn you._ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right _ as it turned out, we couldn__ even help ourselves.

You must be a light unto yourself.

My arm began moving, turning the invisible crank of Death's music box. Somewhere inside, I didn't want the melody to end.

She shifted in her seat and took a sip of water. This was getting a bit too far out of her comfort zone. __m, I would rather know exactly what I am agreeing to before I agree to anything.___ understand, but part of having an adventure is not knowing what__ around the corner.

Dare to be the person you were designed to be.

With the known, you simply repeat the process. With the unknown, you access the new doorways to life.