The Dragon King (main)
Olven snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. “There we disagree, Roisin. If a man crumbles in fear, I’d call him craven, not stalwart. I’m not denying the power of fear, but cold steel, a monster’s venom, a spell’s paralyzing touch - these things can hurt and kill, have decimated nations and peoples. Dying of fright - I guess that can happen, but I’d say it’s pretty low on the list of things that can do you in.”
”All of that - “ He waves a hand toward the grove, the horrors it promises, the terrors unseen. “If it were merely fears… Now, fear made flesh — that would be terrifying. All your deepest fears, coalescing into material form — that would be enough to drive one mad. All men have fears. To face one’s fears, to look them in the face and see them for what they are — that reveals who a person truly is, defines us.”
Again he imagines the grove ungulfed in flame. That would drive him mad, he knows this. But kill him? Never. He grits his teeth. ”I would never, under the pain of death, betray what I believe and hold dear. Fear as a defense will ultimately fail once it meets one who will not crumble in the face of it. It only protects as long as it holds power over those it would cower. Once fear is faced and overcome, it is toothless.”
At D’aden’s words, Olven Wolf cocks an eyebrow. The man continues to surprise.