**Bonus points if you recognize who Cillian is referring to down below :)
Title: Soothsayer, Chapter 5, Part 2.
“Since knowledge is but sorrow’s spy, It is not safe to know.” – William Davenant
Far be it from me to confess to a fault, but if I had to name one off the top of my head, it would be vanity. Used to be pride, or maybe arrogance, but you get kidnapped and tied up and threatened with death enough times and the arrogance bleeds out of your system. Literally, in some cases. So, while I might be confident in my abilities, I wasn’t arrogant.
Vanity, though…well, fuck it, I looked good. I had my mother’s eyes and nose, and her rail-thin build, but my naturally dark hair, the shape of my jaw and my decent height all came from my unnamed sperm donor. I might look like a tattooed punk, but I had put a lot of thought into my tattoos. Every one had a meaning, every one was a little slice of purpose inked into my skin.