Home > Work > Night Lords: The Omnibus (Night Lords #1-3)
1 " I recall no such dream,’ he told the Apothecary. ‘It was months ago. You have been slipping for a long time, but the rate of degeneration is accelerating. Focus on this fact, Talos: you wanted to sail back into these skies. Now we are here. Now those same humans you dreamed of crawl into the earth, weak and weaponless, wailing that we have returned. And even as you fulfil your desire, you are still hollow, still void of memory. You are breaking apart, Talos. Fracturing, if you will. Why are we here, brother? Focus. Think. Tell me. Why?’ ‘I do not remember.’ Variel’s reply was to strike him. The blow came from nowhere, the back of the Apothecary’s gauntlet smashing backhanded into the side of Talos’s face. ‘I did not ask you to remember. I asked you to use your gods-damned mind, Talos. Think. If you cannot recall, then work out the answer from what you know of yourself. You brought us here. Why? What benefit is there? How does it serve us?’ The prophet spat acidic saliva onto the floor. When he turned back to Variel, a viperous smile played across his pale, bloody lips. He didn’t strike back. He did nothing but smile with bleeding gums. ‘Thank you,’ he said as the moment passed. ‘Your point is taken.’ Variel nodded. ‘I had hoped it would be.’ He met the prophet’s dark eyes. ‘I apologise for striking you.’ ‘I deserved it.’ ‘You did. However, I still apologise.’ ‘I said it is fine, brother. No apology is necessary.’ Variel nodded again. ‘If that is the case, would you ask the others to cease aiming their weapons at me? "
― Aaron Dembski-Bowden , Night Lords: The Omnibus (Night Lords #1-3)
