Dastan did not tell Kuyi Tulan what the Great Mentor had said that night. He closed his eyes again, sitting silently in the cage.
His attitude was clear: I am now your prisoner, Kuyi Tulan. Do with me what you will. I won't flinch or blink.
"Fifteen years ago, I was twenty-two and convinced I had grasped most of this world's rules. I was stubborn and refused advice." Kuyi Tulan found himself rambling again, a pang of sorrow striking him as he thought of the Great Mentor.
Every day in the tavern, sipping cheap fruit wine, he would reread the letter the Great Mentor had left him. He could recite every word by heart. The letter had become yellowed and creased from his touch, resembling an aging face covered in wrinkles.
