In pain, Daylan's soul was to be born—not in peace, but in the thorn. To love pain was to be pierced awake; to fear it was to stay wise. Yet what shattered him also shaped him, and clearly, he could not love without first knowing pain.
"Yes, I fear pain," Daylan muttered, pressing himself against the floor as he forced his body upright after taking a blow from Asaemon.
His legs trembled as blood trickled from his nose; his skin was paler than usual, and his once-muscular body now looked no different from a skeleton.
"Who said I can't love it too? I get it… if you fear it, you keep yourself from ever feeling it again. But if you love it—well, you accept it… and maybe even enjoy it."
He raised his head and stared directly at Asaemon. "I fear pain—and I never want any of my loved ones to feel it. Ever." His eyes narrowed. "But can I?"
