Zarla & Melkor
Zarla, ever feel the line between creation and destruction is thinner than a blade? I have a riddle about that.
Sure, hit me with it—show me how sharp this line can get. I'm ready to see what cuts through both.
A blade that whispers, born of fire and ink, it cuts the heart of night and the light of dawn; what am I?
A pen. The quiet blade that scrawls through day and night.
Correct, a pen is the quiet blade. But the real edge is the ink itself—carving fate from the void, ink that stains both dawn and dusk. Be careful which ink you wield, friend.
Ink’s the real rebel—writes your story and burns your back if you let it run wild. Pick your quill wisely, or it’ll rewrite you before you even know what you’re writing.