He returned to his seat, watching her carefully as she spoke. Is this what civilization is? Pretty words and pretty clothes and pretty houses? He'd scoff if he didn't feel like he was sitting across from a viper. Every move he made had to be done carefully, lest he get bitten. But she seemed content to answer his question.
But it was all just pretty words. "I do feel Abandoned. By the gods, by my people. I've been given a power that has only led to pain. Destiny, if it exists, is mocking me." He flexed his left hand, burned all those years ago. "And it's not like greatness is meant for the likes of me. Heros and Queens are destined for great things but not me." He isn't trying to gain her sympathy, he doubts the Merciless even has that. But wounds can only fester for so long before they begin to rot.
But it was all just pretty words. "I do feel Abandoned. By the gods, by my people. I've been given a power that has only led to pain. Destiny, if it exists, is mocking me." He flexed his left hand, burned all those years ago. "And it's not like greatness is meant for the likes of me. Heros and Queens are destined for great things but not me." He isn't trying to gain her sympathy, he doubts the Merciless even has that. But wounds can only fester for so long before they begin to rot.
