All of this…All of it was meant to be freeing for me. Free my from my past, free me from having to look over my shoulder. Though if it was meant to be so, what do I feel so confined, so useless? Now, I don the mantle of a dog and watch over those I love while Xynrael is left to speak for us both.
I despise it.
Melathanore lays near death in the pit while I can do nothing but sit back and watch, forbidden to give that light-wielding bitch a taste of my arrow…Oh, and how smug she is- haughty as she dismisses my words so easily.
If she had any concept of how merciful threats were, how I had given her a warning only because I am denied my right to tear out her throat…She would not laugh so idly. No, of course she would. For all the horrible, disgusting traits these light-wielders share, arrogance holds tightest.
They think simply because they can bend these holy energies they can evade death, that they are above everyone and anything simply because they can mend a broken bone, or close a wound. Perhaps this attitude would be lost when they find one of their own blown to bits, scattered across the Square in a grisly display to prove that even they are merely made of flesh.
And Xynrael, he stands there telling me that he knows what he is doing, while Melathanore appears like little more than a heap of armor and bones. He tells me that this woman…this Seana, was just in her actions, that she was only protecting his whelp of a son…
He expects me to wait…
Though if he dies, IF he dies so will she. Xynrael be damned. I am not his pet to order around, not anymore.
