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“Different series, similar feeling. Malazan, Deadhouse Gates “Aye, Icarium. Such are memories in full flood. We are not simple creatures. You dream that with memories will come knowledge, and from knowledge, understanding. But for every answer you find, a thousand new questions arise. All that we were has led us to where we are, but tells us little of where we’re going. Memories are a weight you can never shrug off.” A stubborn tone was evident as Icarium muttered, “A burden I would accept nonetheless.” “Let me offer some advice. Do not say that to Mappo, unless you wish to further break his heart.” The Trell’s blood was a thunder coursing through him, his chest aching with a breath held overlong. “I do not understand,” Icarium said quietly after a time, “but I would never do that, lass.” Mappo let the air loose, slowly, struggling to control himself. He felt tears run crooked tracks from the corners of his eyes. “I do not understand.” This time, the words were a whisper. “Yet you wish to.” There was no reply to that. A minute passed, then there came to Mappo sounds of movement. “Here, Icarium,” Apsalar said, “dry those eyes. Jhag never weep.” — Steven Erikson