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When I was twelve, my father sent me to the war front, to toughen me up, to make me more like my brother. Cal is perfect, you see, so why couldn't I be the same?"
"I have no use for jealous little boys."
"I wish it was jealousy that drove me here. I spent three years in the barracks, following Cal and officers and generals, watching soldiers fight and die for a war no one believed in. Where Cal saw honor and loyalty, I saw foolishness. I saw waste. Blood on both sides of the dividing line, and your people gave so much more. There was a boy, just seventeen, a Red from the frozen north. He didn't know me on sight, not like everyone else, but he treated me just fine. He treated me like a person. I think he was my first real friend. His name was Thomas, and I watched him die. I could've saved him, but my guards held me back. His life wasn't worth mine, they said. Cal calls this the balance, Silver over Red. He's a good person, and he'll be a just ruler, but he doesn't think change is worth the cost. I'm trying to tell you that I'm not the same as the rest of them. I think my life is worth yours, and I'll give it gladly, if it means change.
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