Tyr Anasazi didn't cry.
He was a Nietzschean. They were a strong people, so unlike their genetically inferior cousins. Humans were inferior. Humans were weak. Humans cried. Nietzscheans didn't. Tyr didn't.
Well, that was untrue. He had cried once, in a moment of weakness preceeded by hours of it. The day had started out bad and had gotten worse. He had been thrown into the past by an annoying little purple girl, been talked out of saving his people by the aforementioned girl, and then had allowed himself to feel guilt. Did he have a right? The conversation with Dylan came floating back to him in broken sentences..."Guilt is a wasted emotion. Or so I keep telling myself"..."I let my own need for survival outweigh the fate of an entire people."
The past year in fact, had been one disaster after another. Marrying and then betraying Freya. Not warning his fellow Nietzscheans at the Battle of Witchead. That mess of stupidity concerning the Castalian government and its head. Crashing on Midden and Yvaine. Getting beaten up (although he was ashamed to admit it even to himself) by Marshall Jeger. The whole fiasco with Beka while the rest of the crew were gone.
And now he had one more thing to be upset about. Beka Valentine. How could he let himself get involved with an inferior human? The problem was, as hard as he might try, he couldn't bring himself to think of her that way. She was strong, she was independent, she was resourceful. Everything looked for in a female. The one thing wrong about her was that she was not Nietzschean. He repeated it like a litany. Beka isn't a Nietzschean. Stop thinking about her. Don't get involved with her. Beka isn't a Nietzschean. Stop thinking about her. Don't get involved with her. On and on and on.
Tyr Anasazi felt like crying.