His whisper is gentle, but unyielding, and he lifts up a hand as though the gesture alone is enough to silence Fitz, to stem the tide--the truth--of what he says. He closes his eyes; the trembling, the shaking of his slight limbs, is not from anger, but fear. "Enough--you mustn't tell me more. You mustn't endanger the future."
This is his future, he realizes. If he returns home to his time, to his place, to finish making his journey with Prilkop back to Clerres and the land of their birth and learning--all of it will inevitably end with him, a crippled and unrecognizable monster, blind and riddled with injuries, and with Fitz's knife inside of him.
Somehow, it is worse to think of this fate than it is to think of his long walk to Aslevjal, knowing what would await him there.
He lowers his hand to his lap and stares down into the fire. "I... was wrong. I must go back. If I don't, it will all have been for nothing."
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His whisper is gentle, but unyielding, and he lifts up a hand as though the gesture alone is enough to silence Fitz, to stem the tide--the truth--of what he says. He closes his eyes; the trembling, the shaking of his slight limbs, is not from anger, but fear. "Enough--you mustn't tell me more. You mustn't endanger the future."
This is his future, he realizes. If he returns home to his time, to his place, to finish making his journey with Prilkop back to Clerres and the land of their birth and learning--all of it will inevitably end with him, a crippled and unrecognizable monster, blind and riddled with injuries, and with Fitz's knife inside of him.
Somehow, it is worse to think of this fate than it is to think of his long walk to Aslevjal, knowing what would await him there.
He lowers his hand to his lap and stares down into the fire. "I... was wrong. I must go back. If I don't, it will all have been for nothing."