as the road up ahead disappears
My heart was racing well before its time Time's running out, it's always running out on me As the road up ahead disappears
In general, Wyll has no use for a wizard’s tower. His power, untrusted and unwanted for the most part, never depended on books or study. He sometimes wonders, when his time runs out, if they all survive the coming battle, if he could learn magic Gale’s way. That is, years and years of study. He’d love to know he had years to figure it all out.
Gods willing, he’ll get the chance and then maybe Ramazith’s Tower will be more than just a stunning view of the sprawling city below him.
And it is a stunning view. Rolan considers the tower theirs as well, never has anything but a friendly greeting when he finds them sprawled on the balcony, traipsing about in the vaults, or reading one of the many, many books of magic or history. Just another life they’ve changed for the better, and Wyll has to believe the tally will somehow count in their favor when their judgment comes.
He climbs over the metal railing and perches on one of the stone parapets, facing east toward Dusthawk Hill, painted in pinks and oranges by the setting sun. He avoids looking at it when he can, it’s easy down on the streets when it’s blocked by buildings but up here, its blight on the landscape is unmissable.
And sometimes he needs to look at it, to dwell on the site of his greatest triumph and his greatest failure. Saved the whole city, and all it cost him was his soul. He wonders what it will cost them this time.
“Is that where it went down?”
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