22 years ago, when I was 16, i started to read the first book in a fantasy trilogy called the Assassins Apprentice. I cannot remember a book speaking to me the way this one did, and main character who I could so easily understand.
(Note there will be some spoilers below)
Over many years more books came back in the same fantasy world, sometimes they would come back to the same characters i had so fallen in love with.
And now it is all done. 16 books and 22 years later the writer has finished their work.
i was in the school library reading the end of the first trilogy, to this day i remember the last line in the book: “We dream of carving our own dragon.”
In this world, through magic, certain people could carve stone into creatures and fill themselves into it, creating a sort of immortality.
And today as I fly back to Berlin, I finished the final book. At the end, this character that, at 16 years old i have so loved, finally dies so at the end of his long life, spilling his life into stone and forming a wolf (rather than a dragon).
And here I sit 22 years later. More hurt, more wise, more bruised, more lived, and facing my own decisions.
How much of myself do I pour into the Master? Do I give freely all that i am pouring everything into him? Or do i hold part of myself back for the world.
As i face the decision of giving all myself up into slavery, a close friend remarked that in what i give and do now to help people, and in what i could do, that pouring so much of myself into slavery could be a loss for the world. .
How do i live? Do i stay in this world and help others, or do i give everything of myself to someone?
Should i carve my dragon, or my wolf, and give everything to it to become something new.
Do i dare to dream of building my own dragon?
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