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“If I could dwell where Israfel hath dwelt and he where I he might not sing so wildly well a mortal melody while a bolder note then this might swell from my lyre in the sky.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us.”
― William Shakespeare

“...but in the next moment I cursed myself for being so great a fool as to dream of hope at all.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, A Descent into the Maelstrom

“What kind of dark, twisted mind preys on young women? I think it was Poe that said the death of a beautiful woman is the most poetical thing in the universe, and if that was trueâ€� I was John Milton.”
― Bruce Crown, Forlorn Passions

“You know the story.â€� The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it.

“I don’t. I’ve never heard the story.�

Joshlon summarized it for her. “Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon—Naga the Terrible.�

Eena dropped her lower jaw. “What?�

“Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon,� Joshlon repeated. “Naga.�

“And Prometheus is Edgar’s father?� She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question.

Joshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradite.�

“Oh. My. Gosh!� Eena exclaimed. “Naga is Edgar’s father!�

Joshlon’s lip curled. He didn’t look like he was following her emotional outburst. “Sha Eena, are you trying to tell me that this is all for real? And Naga is the undefeatable enemy you’re fighting?�

Her hazel eyes focused on him instantly. “Oh, no, no, not Naga! Out of all the immortals, he’s the nice one!�

Joshlon looked confused. “Naga the Terrible is the nice one?�

“Yes,� Eena nodded assuredly. “Edgar is the…� She halted mid-sentence. Joshlon had stopped moving. In fact, all the surrounding Nalnoms were frozen in place, skeptical expressions stuck on their faces. Her eyes fell closed when she heard the disgruntled voice behind her.

“I’m the what?â€� he grumbled lowly. “I’d really love to hear the end of that sentence, Amora.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“Eena turned aside, breathing shallowly as her mind raced with questions. She was glad he couldn’t read the confusion that swooped her up like a passing tornado. Was it even possible to genuinely love more than one man?

Yes. Oh, yes.

She knew it because her heart irrefutably felt it. She loved Derian; it was true. She wasn’t trying to convince herself of it, no matter what Edgar said. She yearned deeply for her captain.

But she loved Ian too. She always had. Only she purposefully, appropriately, had set those feelings aside when he made the decision to pursue Angelle.

But Angelle was gone now.

No, Eena thought to herself, this changes nothing. She scolded her heart for longing for something spent and ended, for even considering the possibility. Her with Ian? No, no, it had to remain in the past.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“Tell me you didn’t,â€� she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. “Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of these poor people.â€�

“I didn’t,� he chirped.

“L¾±²¹°ù.â€�

With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. “Amora, you’re not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…�

“Temple?� she cried, cutting him off. “You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you’re God now?�

Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. “No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit�..god-like.�

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“If you would let me finish,� he went on, “these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well.�

“You’re despicable.�

He frowned at the insult. “Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so.�

“You were that impressive to them, huh?�

“Apparently.� His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.�

“No way.� She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.

“And why not?�

“Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you’ll want to show off with some shockingly grand entrance. I’m not going to take part in a game of deceit.�

“I’m not deceiving anyone,� Edgar disputed. “I can’t help it if they happen to think I’m perfectly magnificent.�

His pompous view of himself earned a nasty look as well as a lecture. “I can’t believe you’re okay with selling people lies that affect the way they live and think! You’re not even close to being a god, Edgar, and yet you allow them to accept you as some sort of deity because of your unusual abilities. For centuries now you’ve abandoned this world and a population who probably looked to you and your lousy sisters for help. It’s all a big, disgusting sham!�

Edgar pouted like a child. “Fine—spoil all my fun. We’ll go do something else. Something that doesn’t include your poor, fragile, stupid mortals.�

“They’re not stupid.�

“They think I’m a god,� he snapped.

That was a pretty good argument.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“I know they don’t respect the lives of others…â€�

“Mortals,� he specified, “who exist for a brief moment and then die off.�

Her voice rose as she argued with him. “I speak of people with very valued lives, Edgar. It may seem like a moment to you, but to me it is eternity.�

“That makes no sense.�

“It makes perfect sense, Edgar! Life is valuable—period. And because mine can be easily taken away, it becomes even more valuable and precious. Yours, you take for granted because you’ll never lose it. Mine, I cherish because it’s fleeting. For that reason alone I can argue that my life is of the greatest worth.�

His eyebrows pulled together over a tangled scowl. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to understand her reasoning or if she had merely managed to upset him.

“Never mind,� she mumbled. “I don’t think you can appreciate what you’ve never experienced.

“That works both ways, Amora.�

“W³ó²¹³Ù±ð±¹±ð°ù.&°ù»å±ç³Ü´Ç;
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

“I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

“You will want to stand close by, but don’t touch it. Just allow your hands to hover. Pretend an atmosphere of acidic gas exists between you and the gemstone, and if you get too close, the acid will eat the flesh off your fingers.â€�

“That won’t actually happen, will it?�

“No, Amora. I’m just warning you not to touch it.�

“Why? What if I do?�

“The enchantment will fail.�

“From a simple touch?�

â€Ô¨±ð²õ.â€�

“W³ó²â?â€�

“B±ð³¦²¹³Ü²õ±ð.â€�

“Because why?�

Edgar groaned a sound of annoyance. “Because if you touch it, the stone will suck out your living essence in the most painful manner possible and consume your flesh before turning your bones to powder.�

Her face twisted up imagining the agony of such a death. The worst part was that being immortal, she would somehow survive it.

“You’re lying,� she quickly decided.

“Am I?�

“You just said the flesh won't be eaten off my fingers.�

“If you don’t believe me when I tell you not to touch it, feel free to test the outcome of such folly for yourself.�

“I think I’d rather not.�

“A wise choice. Shall we move on?”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Hi ha fibres als cors dels més temeraris que no es poden tocar sense emoció. Fins i tot per als perduts, que es prenen la mort i la vida com una broma, hi ha temes amb els quals no es pot jugar.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, Tales of Terror from Edgar Allan Poe