‘If anything, love is far more complicated than any battle I’ve drawn. The odds are always stacked against you, and the greatest suffering comes from the most given. At least, on a field fed by blood, and the heavy stink of metal lifts through the air, I can breathe knowing I am alive and for my own skill; I cut down the enemy before me, this sickness called love is akin to a plague.
Love, you never see it, it doesn’t train, carry a sword, much less an axe to grind. It is for what it is.
A deadly weapon that can wield entire fortunes and destroy empires.’
Aurora to Ma’ta, Book I