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Chapter 37: A Family Name Without the Family
Fantasy was comfortable and a way to escape the dread of everyday life. It was easier to think you were strong and powerful, than admitting that you were weak. It was so much easier to pretend that you were some sort of lone wolf warrior than a weak man, bruised and broken after so many failed ventures, trying to uselessly appease your own bruised and broken ego all the while.
That's the truth, isn't it.
Life is hard, and its painful to face that suffering head on. You need to be able to look away, to explain that suffering away, to belittle it, to pretend that it isn't there, just so you can justify your own inaction.
So why do we enjoy tragedy and sadness so much?
Why are you even here?
It can't be the world building considering its so shoddily done by all metrics, only really tossed in when the author remembers that she needs to explain herself. It can't be the characters. They're pretty much all author
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