The thought has occurred to me; am I coming to the legion for help, or am I coming to help the legion? It is a paradox, without being a conundrum. There is unity in the duality, for both statements are equally true, despite the apparent contradiction. I remember the scent of the Eldest Daughter of the Church, like a memory that the ocean of time cannot erase. The air of her being penetrated the very marrow of my existence.
Last edited: