I remembered hearing that one of the legends about Alexander the Great was that the night before he was born, his mother had a dream about her baby being consumed by fire and coming out unscathed. Walks through fire and does not burn. All his life, Alexander cheated death so many times that people started saying he was invincible, too. Even that he was descended from Achilles. In fact, some followers called him Achilles.
The new Achilles. Alexander’s bloodline. Does not burn.
The rightful One and the girl with the violet eyes. The One, who walks through fire and does not burn. The girl, born of the twelve. Their fates mapped together become the fate of the Circle. Through their union, the birthright of the Diadochi is uncovered. The riches of Iskander, the power of Zeus, the means to vanquish the greatest enemies. The One, when it is his, becomes invincible.
READ IN 2016:Map of Fates (The Conspiracy of Us #2) by Maggie Hall
He smelled like something else, like pinpricks of light in the dark. Like boy. “It’s seductive, being wanted,” he said. It makes us less careful. “And it’s seductive wanting, It feels good. And it feels terrible at the same time.”
I gritted my teeth. “Yes, I’ve read some Aristotle. And I can see that you’ve read philosophy to give yourself an excuse for pretentious name-dropping.” “Works better on girls than you might think,” he said with a wink. “Ugh.” I rested my forehead on the window. “And I don’t only read philosophy.” He nudged my hip with his boot. “I enjoyed Lolita for the lollipops.” — The Conspiracy of Us by Maggie Hall
Do you know what a fate map is in biology? It’s a map of which cells in an embryo should develop into which specific adult tissues. But what they should develop into isn’t necessarily what they actually do develop into. They can be manipulated, or change on their own, and end up as something completely different from what they were fated for.
“My tragedy,” Sibelius wrote, “was that I wanted to be a celebrated violinist at any price. From the age of fifteen, I played my violin for ten years, practicing from morning to night.”
When he was 25 Sibelius auditioned for the Vienna Philharmonic, but it didn’t go well. He got back to his room and cried, then started practicing scales on the piano. “It was a very painful awakening when I had to admit that I had begun my training for the exacting career of an eminent performer too late.”
At the height of his career as a composer, he penned his Violin Concerto — capturing his love of the violin and the pain of never being able to realize, in his words, his “dearest wish.” About a decade later, he recorded in his diary: “Dreamt I was twelve years old and a virtuoso.”
Hear it played by Frank Peter Zimmermann Sat., Feb. 28 at Avery Fisher Hall, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. Tickets: http://bit.ly/brahmssibelius
“You know Aristotle? ‘He who is to be a good ruler must first have been ruled.’” I ignored him. “So that’s a no? By ‘everything’ you really just mean twisted love stories.“ I gritted my teeth. “Yes, I’ve read some Aristotle. I can see that you’ve read philosophy to give yourself an excuse for pretentious name-dropping.” “Works better on girls than you might think,” he said with a wink. “Ugh.” I rested my forehead on the window. “And I don’t only read philosophy.” He nudged my hip with his boot. “I enjoyed Lolita for the lollipops.”