FastSaying

That’s when Eena cut in. Both Ravelly and Unan looked to her as she announced, “My favorite part of the book is at the very end.”

“Where Imorih battles the three-headed dragon,” Unan presumed.

Eena shook her head. “Nope.”

“Afterwards, where Imorih befriends the beast and earns his trust,” Ravelly guessed.

Eena shook her head again. “No, sir. I mean the very end.”

Unan’s brow crinkled as he tried to recall what came next in the story. “Where she finds her prince who was held captive by none other than the same three-headed dragon?”

The young Sha shook her head a third time.

“I know! When the dragon flies them on his back to the edge of their homeland! That would be quite the experience, wouldn’t it?” Ravelly seemed certain he had guessed the finishing act of the story.

“That’s not the very, very end,” Eena grinned.

“But that’s the last page,” Unan contended, his finger pointing at the final leaf in the book.

Wahlister was the one who finally guessed the correct answer. “They kiss on the dragon’s back at the very end. That’s where they promise to never allow anything, even death, to separate them again.”

“Yes!” Eena chirped. “That’s the best scene of all.”

“I don’t recall that promise,” Ravelly admitted.

Unan assured the old Grott, “It’s right here.” He read the line that told of a promise made sure by a kiss. “Their lips sealed the whispered vow, ‘We shall never part again, even if our fate is to haunt one another in death.’” After reading it, he groaned aloud.

“Only a woman would remember that line.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Related Quotes

Ravelly pointed to the illustration as he told his friend that years ago he read this story nightly to his son, Wahlister. “Imorih’s Journey—quite the moralistic quest.”

Unan nodded in agreement. “I read it to Ian and Eena when they were children.” Then he held up the opened page with the picture of Imorih and the tiny, shouldered bug. He asked curiously, “Why do you say this is your favorite part, Master Ravelly?” The question caught Eena’s interest, and her ears tuned in, but her eyes continued to scan the lively crowd below.

The old Grott went on to explain. “That is the part where Imorih realizes the whispered voice she has been listening to, the advice she has been heeding, doesn’t belong to her conscience as she first supposed. It shocks her to learn that for the more part of her journey she has been following the promptings of a negligible, albeit well-intentioned, creature. That’s when two things happen in her life. First, she comprehends how cunning and manipulative the power of suggestion can be. Secondly, she learns to recognize the difference between her own voice—her own desires—and someone else’s.”

Unan hummed a sound of accordance. “That’s right. Things change quite drastically after that discovery, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes, they most certainly do. For the best, I recall.”

“Because she becomes master of her own destiny after that.”

“As we all should be.”

Unan nodded, examining the illustration once again. “Yes, as we all should be.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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I know they don’t respect the lives of others…”

“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.”

“Whatever.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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On Easter we wrap up pretty, little decorated eggs symbolizing life and renewal. We do this because of the intangibility of a promised gift, which is the eventual resurrection of the body, restored to its finest forever state. Easter celebrates life and the idea of its eternal value, most notably the life of the gift-giver who demands nothing in return. He is your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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When gossip starts, be deaf.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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Pride is not your friend.
He would have you think he is, that he affords you strength and courage, but in truth he robs you of your health and by slow, diluted degrees steals your might. He is a crafty and cunning liar who would have you think that stubborn, unapologetic, superior, boastful, and popular are admirable traits. Pride would convince you that being right is more crucial than being kind. He would have you sever relationships, even turn your back on family and friends rather than utter a humble apology. To do so is beneath you, pride would say. He would have you fight like a raptor and gnash your teeth while jutting out an inflexible jaw to defend and protect him, regardless of who is hurt in the process. He would use and demean you in order to puff up and fortify himself. He would destroy your life and every meaningful association before casting you aside without a hint of remorse.
Again, Pride is not your friend.
— Richelle E. Goodrich
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