Same Zinthos place, same Zinthos time.

"I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it,"

I wish Nikki Freeman loved me more than anyone in the entire world.

Particularly when you learn more about the artefact and learn that the suppression and torment inside is an active choice, when you watch the bodies waste away because the artefact doesn't see the point of feeding them or caring for them.

Do you think Thjazi ever looked at the victims left behind and saw the tortured bodies of Merzhad's rebellion that he was trying to save? Do you think he looked at those malnourished people, who had been living in an apartment filling with food that rotted whilst they were unable to reach it, and saw the shadow that hung over the city? Do you think he ever sat in one of Hal's theatres, looking at the stock characters of pantomime masks, and wondered whether the halflings had used the only thing their shaper would truly look at to kill her, her own reflection?

What an awful thing to happen in a city of free people, who have fought so hard for the freedoms they hold. What an awful thing to learn that the artefact has a consciousness too, and is also a free person, but only when subjugating and destroying another. What an anathema to the idea of liberty.

Bolaire is the death penalty given personality at worst, an out of body experience at best. So difficult a concept to chew on, especially for a man who believed that nobody should be owned or controlled against their will. They called the followers of Sylandri flower dolls - pretty things to be shaped and played with as they followed the lines she put in their mouths - it is not hard to see that Bolaire does the same, only no autonomy remains, even when he is being kind.