CHAIN YOUR ANGER IN THE dark, my mother used to tell me, and it will only thrive.

Then one day, after I remembered where I was, what had happened, I broke. Wept for hours. There was this ache in me that I’d been pressing down over and over, but even after I’d shed my tears it was still there. A chasm I could never fill.

There’s a brief, aching sadness that a face I can picture is gone from the world forever.

“There isn’t.” He sounded surprised that I got the answer so quickly, though he didn’t compliment me on it. “And this is the risk of our world, Diago. The flaw of our system is in its head. In us. The qualities of a king change the kingdom. And not one of us is perfect enough to have a right to lead.”

“But even if I could, the Academy is meant to reflect the challenges we face in life, not protect students from their realities. Most pyramids out there are full of Dultatises. And Iros,” he adds meaningfully. “Whether the obstacles to our advancement arise from our ties or our actions, we need to learn to overcome them ourselves. It’s not fair,

“No.” His eyes are sad. “Death is only meaningless if it does not change us, Vis.”

“I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard to live in this world and still be me. Still be your son. But what’s the point? Suus is still gone, and the Hierarchy still takes everything from me, one way or another.”

In trying to become God, they created Him. I think that’s the translation, anyway.

“It’s impossible,” I said, somewhat impatiently. “You’re saying there’s no such thing as a good ruler.”