When he said that, it stung, a bit. All of the insanity in this village, and my opinion was one that meant something to him. It seemed he had classified me as on his side, in the general schema of him vs. the crazy. Which was good, because as far as I knew, I was.

I'd seen the sort of guy he was. I still remember that quite well. Noble despite his upbringing, brave to the point of foolishness, refusing to accept less than the best of himself. Never leaving anybody to face danger alone, even if they brought it on themselves, even if they had done him injury. A good man.

It stung because I hadn't told him. Couldn't tell him. I didn't think he'd kill me for being a witch or some silly crap like that, not anymore.

Now I just didn't want him to put me on the other side, in his head. This guy who respected me for whatever bizarre reason, who had proven himself, during that false history, that fake lifetime, to be all the things I tried to be myself. Only instead of looking crazy and addle-minded, he somehow made it look genuinely noble.

"Yeah, you're not crazy, Richard. It's this damn place that's crazy."

What can I say? Zen never really suited me in the first place.