James Barclay

[Cochin Breaker]

- Ailin -

The Fifteenth Hundred, the Thirty-Eighth year, End of War
The Thirty-Second Day of Summer-Fall

Kav is slightly ahead of me. His feet are pounding on the dry sand and sending up cascade upon cascade of grains. I have to shield my eyes from the sand he’s kicking up; it’s that bad. I glance ahead, through my fingers, and see our saviour looming in the sand; the waves are breaking and falling short a few feet from the hull.
Kav and I wish to leave Turei. This washed up boat is our chance to find out what is out there beyond the sea. There has to be more than just Gatheck, there simply has to be.
Of course our parents would not be happy to let us go; hence why we will not tell them. When we leave it will be during the hours of sleep.
A grain finds my eye and I blink a good few times to get it free, slowing my run to let Kav a little further ahead in the process.
My best friend arrives at the boat first, with me coming in just a few instants later. We’re both breathing hard, but have massive smiles plastered across our faces.
The moon is bright today, which is probably how Kavayer managed to spot the hull in the first place. We were walking north-bound up the beach when Kav shouted something I didn’t hear and began to race off. I followed the older boy, and caught up with him despite the four year age difference.
Kav begins to rub sand off the hull, while I scoop it out from around the buried rudder. The heavy wet sand makes my hands sore.
- Tremor.
Kav says, which confuses me a little. I didn’t feel any shaking.
- What?
I stand up and see the name on the side of the boat, Kavayer runs his hand over it to re-read to markings.
- Tremor.
He says again, and I nod in accord. Kavayer never learned to read with his eyes, but I did, and I can see the name clearly.
- How did it get here?
I find myself wondering aloud. Kavayer turns to face me, his grin faded to a look of puzzlement.
- It washed up; that’s obvious.
- I know it washed up, Kav, but why? What happened to it so that it could be washed up?
- Its fate; we’re meant to go looking. This is what the gods want us to do. Who cares what happened in this boats past, what’s important is its future.
I keep my silence but nod. He has a point; we’ll never know how exactly it came to be here, so there’s no real point in thinking about it.
I walk around the boat to further inspect it. The mast is pointing out to sea at a low angle. The point seems a little accusatory for some reason; maybe because the mast has a jagged end made of long splinters of broken wood. The top half of the mast is missing, but the sail trails from the bottom of the mast away towards the sea where it vanished under the sand.
- Kav, we have a small problem.
Kav comes around and takes the scene in.
- Shit.
He says, but I have more news that might make his next expletive somewhat more candid.
- We also have to get the boat further up the beach. If we leave it here it might get washed away when the tide comes in.
- How long ‘til that happens?
- About a mid-hour.
He curses more violently and spits onto the sand.
- We’d better get started then.
- We better had.
And so we two boys begin a hard dig. After a few moments of hasty digging, Kav’s voice sounds in the moonlight.
- Ailin, what if someone finds the boat further up the beach?
I think for a few instants and take a quick rest from digging.
- I think we have to hope they don’t.

The Thirty-Sixth Day of Summer-Fall

There is a quiet tap on my door; I sit up and swing my legs out of bed. The cold dusty floor does not send chills up my spine as it usually would; I’ve got my boots on, along with the rest of my clothes for that matter.
I tiptoe over to the door and slowly pull it open; the hinges creak a little, which makes both of us silently wince. Kavayer is stood facing me through the doorway. He said we needed to go tonight, so we’re going.
My mum and dad are going to be so worried, but I’ll be back soon enough. And if we find a new land where the sun still shines we’ll return as heroes.
Kavayer nods to me, and I return the gesture. Kav turns on his heels and I follow him. I look down to his waist where five or six small bags are tied; I assume they’ve got food in them. I want to ask but I’m scare that my parents will wake and stop us going, so I don’t make a noise.
Once outside we circle to the back of the house to pick up the two skins of murky well-water I’d hidden there.
Before the moment is up, Kavayer and I are running for the beach and our ‘Tremor’.
In the dark we make it to the beach unseen; the adults will all be in bed regardless. Kavayer and I scoop away the sand from the half buried boat and right it with some difficulty; it is a very heavy little boat, particularly for two children. We drag the hull down to the edge of the sea and return to the place we’d buried the boat to retrieve the mast we’d put together. It is shorter than the original mast, so we’ll have to keep the sails part-furled, but it should serve us well enough.
With a little misunderstanding we manage to affix the mast and boom, and rig up the sails. There is little wind at the moment so we’ll have to row to begin with.
We both give the boat a stout push and then hop into the vessel. As I jump in my hand brushes over the name ‘Tremor’. I have wet boots, so I wriggle me toes and they squelch coldly. Soon my feet will warm the water and it’ll be more comfortable.
I turn to look at the beach and everything that comes with it; from the sand to the mountains, from the moon to the stars, and from Turei to Coicho. I look to Gatheck.
- We’ll be back soon, I promise.
I say it quietly but Kavayer hears. I expect a rebuke about being scared, but all I get is a little smile; I wonder if he’s scared too?
We take an oar each and push ourselves out to sea. The waves hardly rock us, and the sails remain limp. I place the oar in the notch in the gunwale and Kav does the same on his side. We dip, pull, and lift.
It takes us a few moments to get our stride together, but soon we are soaring across the still ocean, out towards… I don’t know.

The Last Day of Summer-Fall

The moon is gone and the well-water lasted just a day. Kavayer’s foodstuffs proved far too insufficient to last any longer than the water had. I’m sure it would have been fine but for two things; we left in a hurry, and we are two children; we had no idea what we were doing.
There is a deafening crack as the mainsail snaps taught again and Tremor lists to the side heavily. The rain lashes into my face, threatening to dash my eyes out. I clutch my stomach even harder.
The calm that had heralded the start of our journey soon yielded to the storm that will no doubt end it.
Just two days at sea, and we have lost all of our hope. Perhaps there is nothing out here; that would explain why nobody has ever found anything. How could we have been so stupid to think that we, no less than two children, could find what the most accomplished of sailors could not?
The waves crash higher and higher; each consecutive one threatens to swamp us evermore completely. I am drenched to the bone, starving, sore and tired. All in all, this has not been a good journey.
We crest another wave and my stomach turns over, but I am not sick this time; I have nothing left to throw up.
The nausea passes and Kavayer touches my arm, shouting something that I cannot hear over the cacophony, his other arm pointing out to sea.
He’s actually pointing ahead, and down at the water. I tentatively look to see what he is pointing out to me. I wish I had not, because it terrifies me.
Ahead is an abyss; swirling and sucking, dragging water down into its depths, and Tremor, Kavayer, and I along with it.
With each instant that passes we are accelerated toward the inverted apex of the maelstrom.
The meagre starlight fades.
The maelstrom swallows us whole.
All light is extinguished.

I choke myself awake, water flooding my mouth and nose; but it’s coming out, not rushing in.
Kavayer is kneeling by my side, his arms around me, supporting me. I feebly put my free arm around him. I’m so glad we are still alive.
- Are you alright?
Kavayer’s voice is quiet and soft. Listening to the voice makes me hear other things; the sound of waves breaking and a distant roar. I think about his question.
- My eyes sting, and my arms and legs are sore.
- Good.
I chuckle, which makes my chest hurt.
- Good?
- Very good. That means you’re not going to go and die on me when I need you most.
- I’ll try my best.
I open my eyes and a smiling Kavayer comes into view. The light here is blue and shimmering, yet dull and dark-hued. Where are we for that matter?
- That’s all I want. You think you can stand?
- Yeah, I’ll give it a go.
Kav helps me up, which is necessary because my head spins when I rise. I put my hand to the wall to steady myself, and the wall gives a little when I do. I pull my hand away quickly and nearly drop. The wall was wet too.
- Kav, where exactly are we?
I ask as I feel my strength returning and head settling.

I haven’t heard anything for ages; am I deaf or am I just not hearing? Or is there nothing to hear?
We’ve been heading down the solid water steps for longer than I care to remember. I’ve taken the lead, though Kavayer wants to. To begin with, I could hear the waves and the crush of maelstrom, but as we descended further the sound got muffled, and then died out completely.
I check over my shoulder again to make sure that Kavayer is still there. Each time we look at each other his eyes glint with mischief, and he smiles broadly and toothily.

It seems like we have been heading down the steps for hours. Long ago the light faded, so Kavayer and I resorted to holding onto each other, as we can’t see or hear each other. Or can we? Since I stopped hearing neither of us have spoken; that’s odd I suppose, but here I can expect that. Walking down stairs in the sea at the centre of a maelstrom is exactly where I would expect to find ‘weird’.
We continue downwards; I do not want to, but Kavayer keeps pressing on. My silent and unseen partner urges me on with a firm squeeze of my shoulder if I stop. We continue down relentlessly. I don’t like the idea of starving to death in a dark and wet stairwell.
- Kav? I think we should head back. We should check up the stairs too. We’re obviously not getting anywhere here.
The voice of my friend never comes, and I’m far too scared by the fact that I’m not sure if I heard my own voice to try again.
It is not long before I decide that enough is enough; my shoulder is sore now, along with the rest of my body, and I am sick and tried of being down here. I’m heading back up even if Kavayer doesn’t want to.
Spinning on the spot, and keeping my balance on the stairs by some fluke, I brush Kavayer’s hand off my shoulder and make a grab for his torso, so that I can make him realise that I’m going back up.
My hands grasp nothing but air; they quest about, searching for my friend who has been lost in the dark. From below me, further down the stairs, a light begins to shine, and I suddenly find that I have never been so thankful in my life. As my eyes adjust to the light after such a long time in perpetual darkness, fear begins to pound within my heart. Kavayer is not here.
He must have slipped past me and continued down. Turning once again on the step, I begin to follow him into the slowly building light. If I’d not bottled it, we’d be heading to the light together.
My elation at finding the bottom of the stairs is only marred by the fact that Kavayer is not here. An archway leads out onto a fantastic panorama. I step out and look around me, taking in the impossible scenery; I’m halfway up a mountain, stood upon a plateau cut into the side of the vast mount. I turn toward the staircase and freeze; it is not there anymore. I only stepped out of it a few instants ago.
Panic now swamps me; I can’t get out, can’t get back up. I begin to explore the plateau in a haze of confusion and dread; the panic clouding my mind and logical thoughts. Tears begin to pool at the corners of my eyes and my breathing becomes shallower.
I sit down, place my head in my hands and will myself calm and tearless. After a few moments I begin to comprehend what I’ve seen.
Leading down the mountain is a set of wide carved steps, stretching further than I can see. If I look up toward the peak I can see a light shining brightly. Was that the light that I could see on the stairs? Scanning the mountainside, I can see a rough track leading up it; it seems a hard path, but well trodden.
The stairs that lead down the mountain hold no sway over me; I am sick of being stuck in this hole. I’m going up.
I pick myself up off the floor and head over to the place where the path starts and begin to climb its steep and winding way.
On the way up I slip several times, but each stumble only serves to harden my resolve to reach the light atop.
Before long I am reaching for the mountains peak, where a small, but severely bright, light hangs. I know I must have been climbing for hours and hours, but the ascent seems to have slipped past almost unnoticed, so focussed was I on reaching the summit.
The light hangs in the air, my hand but inches from it. I reach up and touch it.
Warmth spreads over me. I smile. I’m standing on a vast plain now. I don’t know how I got here, but here I am, and it is okay. I am stood at the edge of the plain. Further in I can see millions of people; all happy in the company of the others.
I look back to the edge; looking over the lip I can see an ocean far below. Looking further out I can see the distant mountains of Gatheck. The harder I look, the closer it gets. I focus on our village and I see all the houses growing and zooming toward me; they arrive and I am once again standing in the small town I used to call my home. I know that this vast plain is my home now.
I walk the dark, moonlit streets to the house I used to live in. As I approach my erstwhile home, none of the people out in the street seem to notice me.
I walk straight through the door to my parents house, knowing I do not need to open it. Inside, my mother sits at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. She is crying. Tears slowly drop from the end of her nose to the table. My father is not here.
I move over to her side and touch her lightly on the arm; my hand passes through her, but she seems to notice and looks at me. But she does not see me. She smiles and lowers her head again.
I lean over and plant an insubstantial kiss on her cheek. She smiles again and the tears stop.
- Mum, I’m so sorry. I love you. I love dad too. Don’t be sad for long; you have each other, even if you don’t have me anymore. Carry on with your lives, don’t waste them looking for me. Again, I’m sorry.
With that said, I pull back to the vast plain. Gatheck and the ocean zoom past as I return. I will miss the place, but I guess I can return whenever it pleases me.
I turn and walk to my new friends.
I hope Kavayer is here, but in my heart I know he is not. He would have taken the path down; I took the harder path up to heaven.



- Kavayer -

The Fifteenth Hundred, the Thirty-Seventh year, End of War
The Twenty-First Day of Winter-Rise

My mother and I are walking along the centre of the road. I’m staring around with awe, my mother is grieving, head down. She puts one foot slowly in front of the other as she has done since we left Bataliae Lodge, but I’ve gotten used to it.
My eyes swarm up the unbelievably tall trees to the wooden houses planted amongst the branches. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to live up there. I stumble on a root, and that brings my attention back down to ground level.
The city is bustling with people going about their daily business. There are stalls selling all kinds of things. There are herbal remedies, skins and pelts, weapons, foods, ales and spirits. Even though Bataliae Lodge is classed as a city, it is so much smaller than this. Thinking of my home once again sets me to thinking about why we left. No matter what I say to my mother, she just doest seem to understand that I helped her.
To take my mind off of the matter I wander over to one of the stalls lined up along the road through Tomam. It sells remedies for most things that I can think of; salves for cuts and stings, poultices for more severe ails, herbal mixtures for impotence, cough remedies, fungal powders, seeds and pods for beard growth. There seems that there is so much out here in the world that I didn’t know about. Who’d have thought all of those things could be found in the forest? I want to buy some things, mainly as trinkets, but I know we can’t afford to.
I leave the stall and catch up with my mother, who’s gotten only a few yards ahead. An idea comes.
- Mother, maybe we could find something to make you happier at one of the stalls?
- I want Brushka back; he would make me happy.
There’s not a lot I can say to that. We continue walking along the road that will eventually take us south and to Coicho.

The Eleventh Day of Winter-Fall

The young boy walking by my side is probably about eight years old, his scruffy blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight, his bright blue eyes shaded by his hand as he cranes his neck to look at me.
- Ailin, how old are you?
- I’m ten in a few days. How about you?
- Fourteen.
We are on the road from Coicho to Turei, a smaller town on the coast, isolated by the Firenian Mountains.
When I first met Ailin, as our families set out from Coicho on the same day, we became good friends. My mother’d been so down in the mouth since I… well she was bringing me down too. Meeting Ailin has given me some of my youth back, and coupled with knowing there’s only another sixty miles or so to travel, I feel much better.
Sixty miles would have seemed a lot to me a year ago, but now, after walking the seven hundred miles from Bataliae to Coicho, it is a meagre amount.
With Ailin there was no desire to delve into each others pasts; after all Coicho is the city of the lost, and any that go through the mountains certainly do not want to be found. That may be why we get on so well. I kind of want to tell him what I did, but I kind of don’t. I know in my heart that it would be better if I didn’t tell him that I’m a murderer.
My mother had hurried me away after I’d done it; we’ve travelled for months, and in that time my mother, quite incomprehensibly, grieved for Brushka. She barely speaks to me.
My real father died when I was just four and by the time I was seven, Brushka had latched onto my mother. He was not a nice man. He used to hurt my mother; he’d come home drunk and punch and kick and bite her. She screamed so loudly I’m sure all of Bataliae Lodge could have heard her.
One day when I was old enough, brave enough, and angry enough, I hurt him for her. I slid the bronze knife into his back and heard the air escape from his lung as the blade pierced it. He coughed blood over my mother and collapsed on top of her. She screamed even more loudly then.
I still dream about it sometimes.

The Fifteenth Hundred, the Thirty-Eighth year, End of War
The Thirty-Sixth Day of Summer-Fall

- He is just too young!
The raised voice that reaches my ears sounds like that of Ai’s father. Intrigued, I slip off the road and down the side of the house I think the voice came from, leaving the few people milling about in the midday night-time. It’s been a long while since the sun went away. I’m not sure how long exactly, because there are no days to measure it by.
I’d been heading to meet Ailin to clarify the plans for our journey, so I may as well walk there with his father.
- They’re all too young, but we need them to work. The crops are failing; the stores are nearly empty; the fishermen are hauling less and less; it’s our only chance.
This time it is a different voice, though, again recognised. I can’t place it though. I know the voice is familiar, but I can figure out why.
What are they talking about? Who is too young? Too young for what, at that? Are we running low on food? I guess this just provides all the more reason for Ai and I to travel to a new world, so that we can find a new sun.
- There must be other ways. You could take the eldest ones.
Ai’s father says, just before a cacophony of voice breaks out, drowning out the individual voices. The noise allows me to figure out where the sound is coming from exactly; there is a wide crack in the ledge of a shuttered window. I press my ear against it.
- Calm now, calm now. Nobody wants this, but we all have to live with it. Avas, if we make one child work in the mines, we must make all of them. If we don’t the ones who are working will feel punished.
- But there must be another way.
- There is not; we need the coal from the mines to trade with Coicho for food.
- But… our children… Macer…
It’s the Macer, that’s whose the other voice is! The Macer wants to make us kids work – and in the mines of all places? Now me, I’m nearly a man, so that would be kind of alright, but Ailin, he’s just a boy. And why aren’t they doing it themselves? Are they scared of going into the mines? No, I won’t let them do this.
I run off toward the market, leaving the continuing voices to their immoral debate. I spend the few pieces of coin I’d saved for the journey on spirits and wood. The Macer will burn along with those who would make the innocent children suffer, which means that Ailin and I must leave tonight.
It is time, so I head back through the dark streets to the house the Macer and his conspirators are occupying; my mind set on arson… and murder.
I will protect the children.

The Last Day of Summer-Fall

I’m kicking hard, fighting against death; Tremor has fallen away from under me and I’m surrounded by water. I’m kicking and fighting for the surface, but I don’t know where that is.
Suddenly I’m awake and coughing up salty water. I draw in a few hasty breaths in between my coughing and relish the sweet salty air.
What the hell happened? We were at sea, heading west. We’d run out of food and water. Then the storm had caught us. I saw the giant whirlpool, and then there was nothing but the water.
I come to my senses and get up off the floor; my clothes are sodden through, but they’re oddly warm too, so it’s alright.
Ailin is lying on the floor a few feet away, so I rush over to him. He is breathing, shallowly, and his pulse is strong. I shake him and shout his name but he doesn’t wake.
I look around; we are in a cavernous room which is filled with a blue-grey light which doesn’t seem to come from anywhere.
I walk in a direction hoping to find something; I’m not sure what or which direction. A few hundred feet away from Ailin, I discover a stairwell leading down and one that ascends toward the roof, I assume. The well leading down seems to have some kind of door, which is currently open; inviting me down.
I get the feeling in my gut that we have to go down, though I know Ailin will want to try and get home; he was scared in the boat. He’ll be terrified down here.
I look at the stairwell leading up, spiralling as far as I can see. It is an odd colour, so I touch it and then realise. It is soft for a couple of inches, then hard as rock as my hand sinks into it. The floor is the same, and the door too. We’re in a room made of water. This is amazing. I know for certain that we have to continue down now. I return to Ailin, pick him up, and hurry back to the stairwell.
I clamber down onto the watery stairs and set Ailin down carefully. Reaching back up I pull down the door; the light suddenly dims, as does the sound; I hadn’t heard it before, but I could hear the whirlpool raging.
I pick up Ailin again and start to carefully make my way down. The stairwell stops turning back on itself eventually, so I’m just descending in one direction now.
Ailin was light to begin with, but he soon seemed to gain weight. I set him down and rest his head on my knees. I’m not sure how far I’ve come, but there’s no turning back now.

Sound and light have failed us. We’re still heading down the solid-water steps, but now my hand is firmly on Ai’s shoulder. From time to time he slows down, so I give him a reassuring squeeze to let him know I’m still with him. I have no idea how long we’ve been heading down these stairs, but I’ve counted to nineteen hundred so far, and I’ve lost count and restarted two times at that.
Suddenly my hand is batted away from Ailin’s shoulder and I immediately lunge forward to find my friend again. I’m scared; I don’t think I realised that until now. My lunge ends with me sprawled on the wet steps, with Ailin nowhere to be found.
I look frantically but only see steps, walls, and water. But I’m seeing… there is a white light coming from further down the stairs.
- Ailin!
I scream silently, and an instant later I’m heading down the stairs two at a time, making for the light and hopefully my best friend.
I burst out onto the plateau, sweating and breathing hard. One side of the plateau drops away while the other rises as a mountain. I can see a hard fought path leading up the side of the steep giant. I stare up and see a flicker of light amidst the cloud at the summit.
The plateau seems to have been cut into the side of the mountain, so I walk its edge until I find a path leading down. It is a much easier route than ascending; the path is made of wide carved steps and each one has something written on it.
This is the path I will take; we’d been moving down until now, so I see no reason to change that. And I couldn’t see Ailin on the mountain, which means he must have come this way, mustn’t it?
I step down off the plateau and onto the first carved step. Crouching, I run my hands over the words; ‘I did it for the children’, onto the next step, ‘it wasn’t meant to be like this’, ‘I only wanted to help’, ‘I never meant to do any harm’. I look up, wondering what all of the words mean, and realise I’m more than four steps down; I’m at the bottom.
Directly ahead of me is a wrought iron gate, chained to seal it tight, through which shines a bright white light. Standing to either side of the gate are a pair of lizard-angels. They do not scare me. They are peaceful. I think I am in heaven.
The lizard-angels are naked, but they seem to have no genitals to hide, so I guess it does not matter. Their skin is shiny and glittering; uncountable scales reflecting the light from beyond the gate. Their faces are narrower than a man’s, and completely hairless. Their lips are taught, which gives them a severe expression which does not fit with the vibe they exude. At their backs butterfly-like wings sit, open and rested. The colours and patterns on the wings are mesmerising.
I step forward, a hand reaching out to the left-most angel. It reacts so quickly. My hand is caught and I’m dragged into an embrace. I’m terrified; the aura of grace that had surrounded them has fled and now I see them for the monsters that they are. The monster holding me opens its wide mouth to show me row upon row of razor sharp serrated fangs. I whimper at the sight. The second monster has unlocked the gate and opened it. Instantly I am hurled through the gate, towards the light.
I land on my hands and knees, which scrapes a layer of skin off. I get to my feet, hands and knees stinging, tears rolling down my face. I’m in a small grey room, all alone. There is one window, which is heavily barred.
- Kavayer? Is that you?
Mum? How is she here? I’m so glad I’m not alone anymore. I rush to the bars and peer out. I feel instantly sick. My mother is standing about ten feet away, next to Brushka. She is smiling. Brushka hits her and she falls to the floor, screaming. I’m sure everyone can hear her.
I stretch my arm out through the bars to try and reach her but I just cannot. He kicks her and she screams again. I am not in heaven. Those creatures that put me here were not angels, they were demons. I scream for my mother. I scream for Ailin. I hope he is not in hell with me.
My mother screams and I try to reach her.
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"Sometimes we must sacrifice everything we love for the ones we love, for without them, we would have nothing to sacrifice at all."

[Cochin Breaker]

So yeah, if you found yourself reading that, please feel free to let me know what you think.
Breaker
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"Sometimes we must sacrifice everything we love for the ones we love, for without them, we would have nothing to sacrifice at all."

[Drizzt]

Are you after general opinion, or a critique?
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Pagan Music

[Cochin Breaker]

Anything you feel like
_________________
"Sometimes we must sacrifice everything we love for the ones we love, for without them, we would have nothing to sacrifice at all."

[Drizzt]

If I've the time over the coming week, I'll dig into it. Just be warned that I'm, er, honest.....
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Pagan Music

[Cochin Breaker]

Honesty is better than chalking everything up to the fault of moose...
Basically, honesty is good (logically), and sugar coating a turd still leaves the turd inside...
Why am I writing like this? :s

Breaker
_________________
"Sometimes we must sacrifice everything we love for the ones we love, for without them, we would have nothing to sacrifice at all."

[Milkman]

Hi Cochin.

Okay just read your piece and two things:

1./ BLOODY HELL. Don't read it whilst you're listening to this(http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Qc9MVCjrKrc&feature=related), it's too sad.

2./ Is it based on a strange dream you had?

It took a while for me to get into it but when I did (inside the maelstrom) it started to look really good and then you slipped the knife in! Not cool. And poor Kavayer. It was enjoyable despite being sad although I would have prefered a nicer ending.

[Cochin Breaker]

It's set during my first novel, and is based on something Jesus (aparently) said. Basically that no child would go to hell. in my defence, i didn't know how it would end when i began writing it ^^
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"Sometimes we must sacrifice everything we love for the ones we love, for without them, we would have nothing to sacrifice at all."