[Raven]
This was the first time Ezra had been this vulnerable with us, and now everything felt painfully awkward.
Honestly, I preferred it when Ezra would just lose his mind and burn down the world. The nauseating, smoky stench of boiling blood and burning flesh was far more tolerable than the suffocating silence in Asher’s chamber.
Before, disemboweling a conscious immortal was enough to lift his spirits. Now, I didn’t have a clue what might work.
Food?
Rum?
Flowers?
Cannibalism?
Women?
Torture?
Poetry?
I am an alchemist, not a poet.
What am I even supposed to say?
Gold is yellow, Silver is blue, Oh, my dear brother, You’ve lost all your screws.
Instead of cheering him up, my poetry would torture him. And I didn’t want him to crave death even more. So, poetry was clearly a
