Lone Star Mountain porcelain knife

cruelty twisting and shattering within her. perhaps that was the true gift her father had left behind for her in his mad wake. the ability to drive a knife in without thinking twice on it. it was her divine right. it was her warrior right.

would it not be a kindness to remove a child from any sickness?

makono had done so for herself, for akashingo.

she had given herself a lifelong condition of ego-fueled martyrdom, too, it seemed.

if you disagree, say so.

there was no anger or pointed blame. she sought an equal in this rare moment.