KORBIN
Remember when I swore
That you and I would never die
That you and I would never die
"I know," he said, and the bitter tone spoke volumes about how he felt about The Voice too. "She's the reason Halo turned from a regular tundra into this too. Why my mother and siblings were side eyed all their lives for having magic. For being abandoned by the gods, because of one greedy person's transgressions. Change is never a good thing." At least none that he had ever seen. In Korbin's case, it had always equaled death and the loss of something he loved.
"Changing things just because you can is the ultimate form of hubris. I feel like it undermines everything that was done in the past, all the sacrifices made. What did all those people die - what did my family - die for if all it takes is one man and a few ningos to disrupt all the ways we've lived for centuries? It makes us look stupid. Like we've been sitting around waiting to be rescued when it's not... Halo doesn't need to be saved because it's not broken!"
He couldn't seem to stop. The words came pouring out again, like they had before. Last time, Loren had been the one to have this stiff necked pride dumped upon him. Stuck in a cave during a snowstorm, a mere hour after Korbin had killed a man. And here they were again. A new set of ears to listen, a new cave, and this time it was Weaver who had died. Another trauma, another stone added to the pile. Who was he trying to convince? Chulane... or himself?
How many funerals would he attend before he turned nineteen? Four down, and there was still a ways to go. Was it him? Them? Halo, Caido? Who was he supposed to blame för this?
Apparently this was an angry day. Pain phased into rage now, not numbness, and the boiling inside him alarmed the raven. He used to have such an even temper. Not one to argue, or get into fights, and yet it was all he did lately. Poking, prodding, needling and riling people until they flared up and he had a reason to unleash on them. It had been done in good humor in the past, merely a joke but now... There was no humor in it now.
"My point is, that if Sunjata wanted an official line of communication, he would have opened one," Korbin went on, shifting back to the topic of the Arbiter. "And I see no reason why he would listen to me even if I suggested it. He dislikes me just as much as I do him, because I don't accept his bullshit excuses and hand waving of whatever he does."
Hearing Chuy's theory, the boy's expression fell, that look of hurt growing deeper in his eyes. Crossing his arms over the chest, the shoulders hunched, buckling as if under blows.
"She didn't tell me." He had gone quiet now, the vitriol dissippating, replaced by something brittle. "She should have known I would have her back, no matter what... yet she didn't tell me about that door. About whatever she was doing. She didn't trust me..."
"Changing things just because you can is the ultimate form of hubris. I feel like it undermines everything that was done in the past, all the sacrifices made. What did all those people die - what did my family - die for if all it takes is one man and a few ningos to disrupt all the ways we've lived for centuries? It makes us look stupid. Like we've been sitting around waiting to be rescued when it's not... Halo doesn't need to be saved because it's not broken!"
He couldn't seem to stop. The words came pouring out again, like they had before. Last time, Loren had been the one to have this stiff necked pride dumped upon him. Stuck in a cave during a snowstorm, a mere hour after Korbin had killed a man. And here they were again. A new set of ears to listen, a new cave, and this time it was Weaver who had died. Another trauma, another stone added to the pile. Who was he trying to convince? Chulane... or himself?
How many funerals would he attend before he turned nineteen? Four down, and there was still a ways to go. Was it him? Them? Halo, Caido? Who was he supposed to blame för this?
Apparently this was an angry day. Pain phased into rage now, not numbness, and the boiling inside him alarmed the raven. He used to have such an even temper. Not one to argue, or get into fights, and yet it was all he did lately. Poking, prodding, needling and riling people until they flared up and he had a reason to unleash on them. It had been done in good humor in the past, merely a joke but now... There was no humor in it now.
"My point is, that if Sunjata wanted an official line of communication, he would have opened one," Korbin went on, shifting back to the topic of the Arbiter. "And I see no reason why he would listen to me even if I suggested it. He dislikes me just as much as I do him, because I don't accept his bullshit excuses and hand waving of whatever he does."
Hearing Chuy's theory, the boy's expression fell, that look of hurt growing deeper in his eyes. Crossing his arms over the chest, the shoulders hunched, buckling as if under blows.
"She didn't tell me." He had gone quiet now, the vitriol dissippating, replaced by something brittle. "She should have known I would have her back, no matter what... yet she didn't tell me about that door. About whatever she was doing. She didn't trust me..."
Remember when you swore
we had it all?
we had it all?
