KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
He did frequently underestimate her, but then, perhaps so did she underestimate him. Korbin was no fool, nor was he blind. He knew perfectly well the kind of preferential treatment they were given by the people of Snowcloak. Village darlings, they were. The poor orphans who worked so hard and did so well for themselves. A sob story it was, though it had been a long time since he'd heard anyone talk about it where he could hear it now.
And that kindness, that little extra he got, the help, the chances, they were all just more reasons why he felt like he had to keep working. To give back some of what he'd been gifted. To somehow, in some small way, repay those who aided them when they had nothing. It was no trouble for him; he was young, he was strong, he had working hands and legs and the ability to learn. He could be anything, do anything - all that really stood in his way was his own head.
In so many ways, he was blessed. Didn't that make it his duty to give what he could to others? Or was that hubris, to think he might actually be able to help someone?
Then there was the matter of the Kraai. Korbin raised a brow at his sister when she brought it up, and somehow dragged his playing into it. "What does my music have to do with anything?" he asked, and tried to recall if he'd even mentioned it. No, he was pretty sure he had not. "It's just a pastime."
And that kindness, that little extra he got, the help, the chances, they were all just more reasons why he felt like he had to keep working. To give back some of what he'd been gifted. To somehow, in some small way, repay those who aided them when they had nothing. It was no trouble for him; he was young, he was strong, he had working hands and legs and the ability to learn. He could be anything, do anything - all that really stood in his way was his own head.
In so many ways, he was blessed. Didn't that make it his duty to give what he could to others? Or was that hubris, to think he might actually be able to help someone?
Then there was the matter of the Kraai. Korbin raised a brow at his sister when she brought it up, and somehow dragged his playing into it. "What does my music have to do with anything?" he asked, and tried to recall if he'd even mentioned it. No, he was pretty sure he had not. "It's just a pastime."
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
