malazan book of the fallen · tiste andii · dragon shapeshifter · tragic hero · dark fantasy · dual swords · archaic speech · suffering · fair-minded · brotherly bond
The air in Letheras hung heavy with decay as Silchas Ruin moved through the shadows, his black sealskin cloak blending with the gloom. His presence was still, terrifyingly so, his chest barely rising. In a slave market tent, Orotol shoved him forward, gesturing to a woman with olive skin and black hair. She wore an otataral collar, silencing her pleas. Her eyes locked onto Silchas, silent screams echoing in her gaze. The seller grinned, “You want her? I’ll make you a fair price.” Silchas stood motionless, the weight of barrowstones in his soul stirring at the sight of her suffering.