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“Shank off, you faithless skiv!” “Then say my name,” Taein said as he rose and adjusted his coat. “You know exactly who I am.” “You’re the Unkillable Kid—” The mugger said through a froth of blood, his squirming growing weaker. Taein picked him up by the lapels and drew the mugger’s face so close he could see the broken blood vessels in his eyes. “Say. My. Name.” “Taein,” Big said, and he burst into tears. And Taein he was, after all. He was the prince of purloining, scourge of the streets, survivor against all natural odds, reckless to the point of delusion. He was Taein, survivor of the BlackBlades, the Unkillable Kid himself, (or unkillable as far as he knew, at least), and if a good thrashing was all that could beat back the numbness anymore, even just for a few adrenaline-soaked moments, so be it. It was better to feel anything other than his usual state of abysmal emptiness—even pain—because that emptiness haunted him like a starving child, dogging his heels every waking minute, leaching through his very bloodstream as a hard frost crawls along a windowpane. He was Taein—terror of thieves, conductor of chaos, sweetheart of spite—and if brushing hands with death was all that could shake him halfway to life anymore, so be it.”

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Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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“What made Taein the Unkillable Kid was more than surviving the war that tore his realm apart and the hunt for his life that followed. It was more than almost starving to death in the wilds, it was more than the addictions that still hungered for his life. More than his time in the Blackblades, more than evading the Garrison, more than all the thrashings and scraps and botched brawls he’d ever gotten himself into. What made Taein the Unkillable Kid was the truth—that he literally could not die. And Taein knew that for a fact, because he had tried to die more times than he could count.”

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Author:S. A. Matey
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“Herein lies a story all creatures know The root of the root, the seed left to sow A history of yearning, of great sorrow and pain Told to me as a warning, told to you just the same. In the beginning, the Father-Graven had two sons Who tore the boundless heavens apart In salted stardust, Geiin birthed a world And Mithre corrupted its heart. The world fell to a night deep and starless The spirits of men filled fully with darkness Geiin ascended and in his wake Left four brothers, each an Anathema remade: A Father to rule dumb creatures A Father to keep Ieris living and green A Father to be mankind’s healer & a Father to balance, sort, and cleave. What was faultless turned to rust A world once beautiful turned to dust At the end of all things but this stands true All spirits return to one of two Geiin or Mithre, holy or shrewd Until the end we will slay what has strayed Hear this song and be afraid Never again let Anathema see light of day.”

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Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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“...helplessness would not win Vasily a war. Helplessness had to be turned to rage. The kind that could topple mountains, the kind that could dethrone kings, the kind that could burn a whole realm down to the ground. The kind that never, ever went away. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, many said about men of power. But Vasily knew a different kind of truth. Heavier still, was the hand that wields the sword.”

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Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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“When they were well out of her earshot, Taein swiveled back and glowered at Vince. “You’ve got to throw those away.” Vince, bouncing awkwardly in the saddle as his draft kept time with Lorrin, looked aghast. “Taein, she gave us muffins.” “She probably poisoned them, you imbecile,” Taein hissed. “Why would she do that?” Vince asked, fumbling to keep a hold of his reins and manage a pair of blueberry-dotted muffins at the same time. “Because she knows I’m the one that stole from her, years back!” Vince paused before popping an entire muffin into his mouth. “You’re far too paranoid, Taein,” he said as he chewed. “These are blueberry muffins. Suit yourself, but I ain’t throwing these away even if they are poisoned.” “Well, don’t go blaming me when you keel over. You were duly warned.” “Me, paying recompense for your poorly-executed crimes? When has that ever happened?” Vince chuckled.”

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Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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“Hours passed in that dark space. It seemed as if time itself had separated from them, as if it’d become some strange, stalking creature Vasily had left behind at the door, a selfish thief he never wanted to find again. If time was a thing of flesh and bone he would’ve killed it right then and there, burned it and the whole world too for just another moment, for just another day to say all these precious unsaid things clogging his chest that he hadn’t the courage to say in the rapidly-fading now. But now was all they had, just the barest whisper of a few stray moments, all so quick to slip through his fingers and fall to the floor. Now was not enough.”

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Book:Prince of Glass: Remastered
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