“He was too tired now for dancing, his spirit too weary, and yet he felt more powerful than ever, and his speed continued to increase. He was still following Hazel d’Ark’s trail, forever closing in but somehow never quite catching up. He felt like he’d always been pursuing Hazel, and always would, trapped in the rainbow run like a hamster in its wheel, only thinking it was getting somewhere. Home seemed very far away now, and so did his humanity. He’d done so much, both before and since his deat...h, and he felt like he could do so much more. He’d come a long way, in more ways than one. He wondered if the old Owen, the young scholar in his comfortable ivory tower, would even recognize the man he’d become. He liked to think he’d done good things, honorable things, in his short but remarkable life . . . but he had to wonder if it would ever be possible, or even advisable, for something as powerful as he now was to ever return to human society. Power tended to corrupt, he knew that from his studies of history, and he had made himself so very powerful.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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