You see, Sera, you can accept things the way they are. Or you can make them better.

She thought that it was interesting how just about everyone had a special talent or skill, something they were naturally drawn to and good at, and then they worked years to master it. Nobody knew how to do everything. It wasn’t possible. There wasn’t enough time in the night. But everyone knew something. And everyone was a little different. Some people did one thing. Others did another. It made her think that maybe God intended for them to all fit together, like a puzzle made whole.

But when Serafina turned back to look at the figure in the distance once more, the figure was gone.

She knew now that there were darker forces in the world than she had ever imagined, and brighter ones, too.

Every person was a hero in his own mind, fighting for what he thought was right, or just fighting to survive another day, but no one thought they were evil.

She’d always had a hankering for sitting quietly in dark, confined spaces.

Standing there in the forest on her own, she didn’t feel strong. And she didn’t feel happy. But she finally felt as if she could go on.

But what is power? she wondered. Was it the weapons and tools to act, or the ability to think? Was it talking to someone, or doing something? If you have only a small amount of power, and you’re able to do only the tiniest, most insignificant things, does that mean you’re powerless? Or with that tiny power, do you have all the power in the world?

There’s no shame here, none at all, just a strong desire to keep us both alive.

All the while, they went about their rotten, ratty business and had no idea she was there.