What’s the difference between a curse and a blessing with a catch? Just a matter of perspective, perhaps.

A fire that consumes all in your wake and you as well once you run out of strength to flee it? A weapon without compare, if only you can lead it to the right place.

Eternal youth that will crumble to rot in an instant if you look on another person with love? There are other things to love, and places with no other people to spoil them.

A brand on the forehead that blunts the feelings of all who look upon it, so that only by hiding your face can you ever know love or hate? Tear away the veil and perhaps you can live a peaceful, indifferent life with a woman who will crumble in an instant if she ever loves, tending her sheep in golden meadows and watching the grim march of fire pass far in the distance.