"Am I wrong in thinking that you're somewhat cruel to me, Vol?" Penelope said, her face hurt.
"I let you live. I've done far more cruel things than that. Of which you've seen. I could have made a goblin out of you," Vol said.
"…I suppose you could have," Penelope said, "but even that might have been a mercy, I think, compared to the fate that awaited me with Lord Brighteyes. I wonder, if, no matter what you had done to me, the Gods have placed you in my life eternally as a figure of mercy."
"If you feared it so much, why didn't you just kill yourself?" Vol said, a little too bluntly. His back was turned to her, as he attempted to swat away a huge mound of a hundred Water Sprites, using them as part of his training. He didn't see the look that passed over her face – that distant expression that arose in her eyes.
"Duty," Penelope replied, a sad smile. "My mother and I made an oath. We Farseers are nothing if we don't follow through on our oath."
