"You have just described greed," the figure said finally. His voice carried no triumph, no satisfaction at having made his point. Only weariness. Only the exhausted recognition of someone who had heard these same words before, perhaps spoken to them himself, perhaps believed them as fiercely as Ethan believed them now. "Greed is not wanting everything. Greed is wanting something that is not yours to want. Greed is believing that because you feel something, the world owes you its accommodation. Greed is standing in a circle of blood and ash and calling love what you are actually doing, which is reaching through the dark to take."
Ethan opened his mouth. Closed it. The words he would have said did not come.
