Vaelric looked at him expectantly.
"I have delivered both my warning.....and my advice."
A faint smile crossed Vaelric's face.
"The advice being.....that I should stop interfering...and simply allow everything to unfold?"
Caelion did not answer immediately. Instead, he looked across the endless sea of flowers.
"Yes."
The single word was gentle. Yet it carried the certainty of someone who had witnessed ages come and go.
"I am telling you that forceful interference with certain threads may tighten them rather than sever them."
Vaelric gave a short, incredulous laugh and turned away, running a hand through his reddish-blonde hair before letting it fall. "That is a lovely way to dress surrender in elegant words."
Caelion did not rise to the edge in his tone. "You may call it surrender if that makes it easier to hate."
Vaelric faced him again, and there was a flash in his eyes now, something bright and dangerous. "And what would you call it?"
