What is a scar?

 

Pfah! Thy weakness betrays thee. Thou thinkest mine own flesh doth fail or fray? Fie. That beeth thy custom. Holdest thy hand to the wrought blade and then dash it—are not blood and stink of flesh to be expected? Now…placest my palm upon this soldier of the forge. See how it does not split, it does not weep? …Note.

Scars are for the weak, for the pregnable, for the many. Scales are better armor for us few.

—Val

 

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