They say if you sit long enough in the shadow of the North Tower, you'll see everyone you ever knew. I didn't believe it until my father walked by, jingling of metal and gold. He'd abandoned his family for the long war and died in a forgotten battle.
"Choose your side, boy," he ordered.
"What are my choices?"
"Stupid, blind -- no son of mine --life or death, boy. Choose."
"Life."
Father smiled, showing rotting teeth and a putrid black tongue. I had known his choice.
We would fight forever on opposite sides. There had been no real choice for me.
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