CHAPTER 2
First light…

Kendal walked a steady gait through the snow, his eyes on his hands as he began to pull on a pair of black-leathered gloves over his long fingers. As he made his way towards the large wooden stables on the far side of the field, he began to adjust uniform by tugging the triangular bottoms of the jacket downward to straighten the crease near his hip.

The uniform was Bedivere’s color of navy blue, lined with golden buttons to the left of his waist, and golden tassels on top of his broad shoulders.

The pants of the uniform were a matching blue, with a bright yellow belt that overlaid itself twice, forming an X on his right thigh. One side of the belt had a holster and a sheath, with his pistol’s handle hanging from the holster, and a jewel-crested shortsword snug in the sheath just behind it.

On the right side of the belt, where the X formed, was a much lengthier sheath with a much lengthier sword hidden inside. The golden hilt of the sword had the metal crest of Bedivere embedded in it, and there was a thin ‘G’ sketched on the butt of the handle.


The soles of his black knee-high boots crunched in the fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight, and his hands fumbled with a black band that he had tied over his forehead to keep his extensive bang out of his visage.




As he began to round the backside of the stable, his Pariah came into view, surrounded by a horde of heavily armed knights from the castle, their weapons drawn on the Pariah as though they were ready to attack.

There were four large, burlap packs resting by the feet of each of his Pariah, and a lone soldier holding a saddled paint horse by its reigns in the middle of the large group of knights.





As Kendal drew near, he saw that the Pariah had all been given bathes and new clothes like he had ordered, and a hint of a smile came to his lips that his order had been fulfilled.

They all wore the uniform of Bedivere, consisting of neatly pressed slacks and jackets that had buttons to the side of them. On the back of the uniform were giant crosses, and the crest of Bedivere on the corner of their chests. The jackets had high necklines, which were buttoned closed around their necks, and cuffs buttoned closed on their wrists.

Vincent was immersed in a hoary cloak over his dark Bedivere uniform, a sable scarf draped over shoulders; encircling his neck, shielding his mouth from view. The elf’s golden skin was vibrant against the white woodland, and his coal locks had been combed with mousse to achieve his rigid, spiked haircut. The plaited bangs had been unbraided, and were now glossy straight, still held together by the tribal beads near the ends.

For a moment, Kendal pondered the reason for the cloak over the hefty Bedivere coat, but as realization sparked him, he smirked, smiling at his own forgetfulness.

Vincent has to maintain warmth to his arms so that his magic wouldn’t be stalled by the chilliness to his fingers...

Despite his weak knowledge in the aspects of magic, the blonde man knew that if an elf’s arms, hands, or even fingers were numb with cold, they would be rendered useless. This also applied to weapons of any kinds.

The palms of an elf is where the magic is formed, and if an elf grasped any sort of metal, his magic would also be disrupted, hence no gun nor sword…

Elves are quick on their feet… almost as if they were superhuman; flying from tree to tree, unsightly fast in their runs, incomparable sneaking abilities, and able to conjure exceedingly powerful magic…

They must be, due to lack of weapons…


Tobias wore a colorless Bedivere uniform to help him merge into the silky snow about their feet, and to compliment his white hair, which had been trimmed several inches off his nape. A phenomenally azure optical was still shaded over by a tress of hair, with uneven razor cuts throughout his entire mane.

Harpies rely on stealth…
They are master archers, and during winter, their white hair and fair skin tribute to their concealment…

It is unclear why, but Harpies have been known to possess certain assault and restoration magic…

Their magical potency, however, is nowhere near the strength of the Elves…

The white upper part of the uniform was unbuttoned, revealing a simple, black flannel shirt beneath. To accommodate his wings, two thin slits were made in the back of his uniform so that they were free to rest against the jacket, rather than underneath it. Strapped to the hips of his white pants was a sword, and tied to the ankle region of his left boot was a serrated hunter’s knife.

I know that Harpies are experts with shortswords and daggers, but a sword…?

Strange, that Tobias would choose such a weapon…

Seth’s uniform was a dark jade, complete with pitch-black buttons, belts, and boots. Instead of a sheathed belt for melee weapons, he was adorned with holsters, a slim pistol to one side, and a fairly bulky handgun on the other. Encircling his thigh, though, was a sheath on the outer part of his leg, containing a blade much like the one on Tobias’s boot.


Despite their wings, Valkyries seem to be the closest to human out of the all of the races…

Their marksmanship have always been remarkably high with firearms, their techniques with the blade unmatched, but it has been a mystery why they cannot achieve the same level with bows…

Unlike the elves, they are able to wield weapons, and have a wide range of fighting styles…

Like the Harpies, they too can perform certain magic, but are still nowhere near the potential of an elf…

Valkyries also seem to inherit the stealth and speed of a Harpie, the intelligence of the Elves, and the battle tactics of humans…


If I had to pick which kingdom would conquer the humans first, it would be the Valkyries…



Like Tobias, Seth’s uniform was cut to accommodate his wings, which were significantly larger than the Harpie’s. His extensive hair flowed down his spine, between his wings, similar to a stream of ebony silk, cutting off just before the top of his belt.


Roarke was clad in a russet uniform that was properly buttoned up to his neck. As with the other Pariah, the boy was equipped with the weapons of his choice, which happened to be dual saw-toothed shortswords on each hip.

Thieves generally uses small blades as weapons…

They’re diminutive, which allows them to maneuver through tight spaces…

Kendal was able to see Roarke’s entire face, his curled locks now under control and out of his visage.  The boy had a strapping jawbone, with a taut mouth that was still tight in a grimace. His hair had smooth, lustrous waves that were lengthy and curved around his ears, leaving tresses across his forehead and nape.


“What’s going on here?” Kendal asked loudly over the troupe, his question directed at the soldier holding the horse.

The blonde man treaded forward, despite the mass of knights in front of him, blocking his path. As soon as he came near, the knights began to part at once, assembling a clear pathway for him as he loomed toward the knight with horse in hand.

“Making sure they didn’t run off, my Lord,” the knight stated firmly, with a bob of his head in the direction of the blonde man.

“Well… I think you’ve got them covered,” Kendal said with a light chuckle of amusement, rotating in almost a full circle at the many knights, counting that there were more than three dozen heavily armed men watching over the Pariah as they waited for his arrival.

“Your horse, sir,” the knight then said, extending his gauntlet-clad arm with the leather reins of the horse grasped tightly in his fingertips.

Kendal’s cobalt eyes lowered to the gloved hand, staring at the reins for only half a second, before he twisted his upper half to spot his Pariah.

Vincent’s body language was menacing, with his lean arms bound over one another, his eyes squinted in a malevolent glare at the sword-wielding knight closest to him.

The knight, no older than a squire, took minuscule steps back from the elf, his sword wobbling somewhat as the Pariah intimidated him with only his eyes.

Alongside Vincent, Seth leaned to one leg, his hand cupping his hip just over his belt in a casual stance, his emerald eyes emitting a bored look as he watched the scene unfold.

Tobias remained partially hidden behind one of Seth’s wings, examining his own clothes admiringly, his finger playing with the buttoned tassel on the shoulder of the uniform’s jacket.

Roarke was turned away from Kendal, exposing his back to him, but he did glower from the corner of his cerulean eye just before the curl of his hair that locked around the earlobe of his ear.

“Where are the rest?” Kendal asked as he turned his attention back to the knight.

“The rest of what, sire?” the knight replied in a puzzled tone, unsure of what he meant.

“Horses? They’ll need horses, too,” Kendal said as though he were informing the knight, an eyebrow rising as though he were accusing the knight of idiocy.

“During this time of war, we can’t spare any horses to petty prisoners,” the knight said distastefully, and if he had spat at the snow before Pariah, Kendal wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Then I won’t be needing this,” Kendal said, already turning away from the knight, making his way toward the four Pariah that waited for him amongst the crowd. As soon as he did, the knight became flustered, gushing a few words out before he regain his thoughts.

“B-but, my Lord! There’s snow!” he managed to get out as Kendal stopped a few steps before the Pariah.

“If they’re not going to receive horses, then neither will I. After all, we are equal,” Kendal said in his firm tone, speaking to the knight even though he wasn’t facing him.

The knight remained flustered, nearly faintly as he tried to muster up a polite approach to influence Kendal to accept the horse, attempting to ignore the fact that Kendal had alleged that he and the prisoners were equal.

“Leave us,” Kendal then said in his firm tone, before the knight could continue.

Obediently, the knights slowly began to back away from the Pariah, lowering their swords as they did. After almost a few tense seconds, the soldiers were able to turn away from the Pariah, walking back in the large mass toward Bedivere’s stronghold. Several knights walked backwards, keeping their watchful eyes on the Pariah, until they edged over a mound of snow, unable to keep them in their visage.

Once the vigilant soldiers disappeared, silence came upon Kendal and his Pariah as they became solitary along the outer edges of the Bedivere fortress, and Bedivere Forest.



“…What a fine little show you put on there. Trying to gain more respect?” Vincent finally spoke up, his voice as husky and dark as it had been in the prison the night before.

“I was trying to teach them that you are to be respected as well, no matter how low your place in this world is now,” Kendal retorted, and Vincent sneered at him, his mouth curving into a scowl.

“And what rank are you, exactly, my Lord?” Vincent asked, mocking the last two words, but Kendal ignored him, his attention already shifting to another member of the group.

“I understand that privacy is a rather delicate need, but I will need you to stay close,” Kendal said to Roarke, who was standing several feet away from him, and even the other Pariah.

Once said, Roarke exhaled irritably as he rolled his eyes in annoyance just before he journeyed closer to them, coming to a stop a few feet from Vincent’s side.

Tobias finally finished admiring their classy, new-fangled uniforms, treading forward to grasp Seth’s wing with his slim fingers, peering around the wing to observe Kendal silently, almost worryingly, with his childlike eyes.


Kendal’s night-sky eyes roamed over each of them in his noiseless assessment, before he began to groom himself, his fingers combing through his bang almost idly, his eyelids closing as he began to speak.

“We’ll be heading to Anivere first. I’m an experienced traveler and a decent navigator in these parts, so we might possibly make it there by tomorrow afternoon if all goes well,” he explained to them. “Now then, grab your packs, gents. Our journey begins,” Kendal begin his walk, striding between Vincent and Roarke toward the Bedivere Forest behind them.

The four Pariah instantaneously began loading the heavy burlap packs onto their backs. This chore was simple for Roarke and Vincent, who merely had to heave them onto their backs, but for Seth and Tobias, the two men assisted each other by pulling the straps of the pack over their wings, so that they lay situated in the middle of them.

Kendal was already far out into the forest once they were ready to depart, and they had to move at a speedy pace to catch up with him.





For the first several hours, all of the men were as silent as a grave, but by the third hour, Tobias had grown bored, and slipped a cylindrical flute from an inner pocket of his coat. It was silver, with shiny gems that painted a pattern along the sides of its length.

The Harpie placed the flute to his lips, creating melodies that flowed like water in a river’s current. With every note he struck, either high or low, it allowed the rather tense atmosphere to relax some, and a sliver of a smile came to Kendal’s lips for the first time in many hours.

Rarely do I get to hear the old songs of the Harpies...

“That was magnificent, Tobias,” Kendal praised, giving the Harpie a swift glance of his eyes over his shoulder, before his attention returned to path, climbing over a fallen timber tree.

“Thank you, sir,” Tobias nearly squeaked at the flattering remark, prancing happily to stand behind Kendal.  “Uhm… Out of curiosity, where does our journey take us?” the Harpie then asked in a quiet voice, as though he wasn’t quite sure he were allowed to ask the question.

The rest of the Pariah all watched Kendal’s back with intent eyes, just as curious as the Harpie.  

“We are to travel to Elonach, on the far side of the world,” Kendal nearly repeated the King, and when he did, Tobias jumped to some extent, his fingers clinging to his flute as he pressed it vertically against his torso.

His face was that of excitement.

“Really? I’ve always wanted to go there!” Tobias announced now as he slipped the flute into a undersized pouch behind the blade of his snowstorm boots, and as Kendal glanced over his shoulder, he thought the Harpie might take flight in his delight.

He acts young, looks young…but there’s something in those eyes telling me he’s much older…

Unlike humans, the Harpies, Elves, and Valkyries can live for centuries...

“Tell me something, Tobias,” Kendal began, and when called upon, Tobias ran directly to his side, a bright grin on his face as he inclined his head to Kendal with an admiring look in his eyes.

“How old are you?” the blonde man questioned politely, and Tobias placed a thin digit of a finger to his parted lips, squinting an eye in thought.


“Uhm… well, I’m guessing I was in Roverin for seven years or so…Kind’ve lost track now,” Tobias then counted on his fingers, pattering at his fingertips, his pallid eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Kendal blinked in disbelief.
“Really now? Seven years?” he asked.


“Yup!” Tobias squeaked, ultimately giving up on guessing his age with a carefree shrug of his shoulders.

Kendal could only watch him peculiarly; his mind marveling the Harpie whose attention was quickly snatched away by a monarch butterfly that just happened to be flying past.

In almost animalistic pounces, the Harpie began leaping about, trying to confine the butterfly within his petite palms.


Seven years in the worst prison on this continent and he’s still… cheerful…

After several failed attempts to catch the butterfly, who was now much more elevated in the air, Tobias’s attention returned to the fair-haired man as he situated to stand adjacent to him once more.

The Harpie watched the blonde man from the corner of his eye, carrying out his own silent examination. He then did a quickstep, running forward and turning so that he would walk backwards in front of Kendal.

“How old might you be?” Tobias asked with his shy grin, just before the butterfly above descended to dock on his nose. The Harpie went cross-eyed to keep the amber insect with his vision, his mouth forming an amazed circle as it flapped its vibrant wings.

“Twenty-three,” Kendal replied, cocking his head at the sight, just as surprised as Tobias at the butterfly’s sociability, grinning down at the shorter man.

“So young…” Tobias said as though to scold him, and Kendal chuckled somewhat as the Harpie’s tease.

“Seven years is a long time,” Kendal retorted, implying that Tobias was old.

“Perhaps in human years…but I think I am still considered a young man…in Harpian time,” Tobias said in his defense, twirling to walk beside Kendal as he grinned up at him.

He seems so innocent…
…I have a hard time believing that this Harpie murdered three thousand…

“Will you play another song for me, Tobias?” he requested, and with an almost excited bop of his head, Tobias slipped the monochrome flute from the tiny pouch before he placed the metal instrument to his lips, and continued with his harmonious melodies.

In the evening hours…

Kendal was situated on a piece of timber, his eyes staring unblinkingly into the campfire amid him and Vincent.

The elf was amusing himself with the flames, his hand hovering over the crackling blaze, as though it were calling to the fire.

Kendal’s eyes flicked up to watch Vincent inquisitively as the fire began to flow like a stream towards his palm. Once there, the elf would hoist his palm to the sky, letting the flames flicker in its own bonfire.

After only a few seconds, the campfire would begin to diminish, losing its spark and sputtering embers. As it did, Vincent would slowly clench his opened palm into a fist, and the fire would dissipate completely, just so that he would incline forward and allow his hand to drift over the blaze, willing for a repeat.

Vincent’s face was void of emotion, but his chrome eyes sparkled something unspoken whenever he held the flames on his palm.

Now this one I can believe...
Murdering over forty-five people because of his temper…

Kendal’s train of thought was broken by a whoosh of wind, and with a cant of his head, he saw Seth and Tobias playing some kind of game with their wings.


Seth appeared to be winning as he smacked Tobias hard over the head with one of his raven-colored wings. The Harpie whimpered quietly as a pout came to his mouth, beginning to massage the spot where Seth had whacked him, trying to soothe it.




With a silent snort of a laugh, Kendal’s eyes gradually rose to spot the human boy resting on a bulky branch above.

Roarke’s back was aligned with the tree’s trunk, one thigh hunched to his chest, the other hanging loosely off the side of the branch.

His oceanic eyes were on the moon absentmindedly.

He’s just a kid…
He shouldn’t be a Pariah…
He should be at home, studying, being trained as a soldier…
…not on a quest that most likely lead to his death...

“’Oy, Roarke,” Kendal called to the boy, who gradually turned his head to him.

“Come down here a moment,” Kendal ordered, seeing Roarke, once again, sigh in irritation.

The boy then unhurriedly began to climb to his feet, and with balance that impressed Kendal, he began to walk along the branch.
With a slight crouch of his knees, Roarke leapt off the branch, somersaulting like a diver to ground.

Roarke landed noiselessly, his impact only known by the light breeze his momentum made, and once on his feet, he began to brush the dust off the thigh of his pantleg.

Once satisfied, Roarke stood upright, encircling his arms to his chest, his eyebrows perking up in aggravation.

“What do you want?” he asked spitefully.

“Why did you try to break into the King’s vault?” the blonde man asked curiously, disregarding his impoliteness.  

“Forgive me if I do not wish to discuss my past, especially with the man who is responsible for my being sentenced to death,” Roarke snarled at him.

Kendal bent forward, his elbows perching themselves on his kneecaps as his bland eyes looked over Vincent’s shoulder at the skeletal human boy.

“It was not I who told you to become a thief, was it?” Kendal asked, wondering why the boy accused him of his sentencing.

Roarke glowered at him, fury very evident in his eyes.  

“If your Lordship would take care of his people, rather than spending all his time lavishing himself in splendor, then I wouldn’t have had to become a thief,” Roarke hissed at him.

Kendal’s mouth parted to some extent, remaining silent for a moment.

“…From which town are you home to?” he asked in a quiet tone, but Roarke did not reply; only gave him a piercing stare.

“Why don’t you honor us with a fact or two about yourself, Lord Kendal of Bedivere,” Vincent sneered from across the fire, taking the attention off the boy.

Kendal lowered his gaze back to the elf that sat across from him.

“Merely a man of privilege with too much time on his hands,” Kendal said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

Vincent’s brows lowered in suspicion, his pointed ears lowering slightly.

“In all my three hundred and twelve years, I have never heard of a Lord Kendal,” Vincent husked darkly, but Kendal only emanated a smile, his eyes dropping to the fire.

“I like to keep to myself, staying neutral with all the races of this world,” Kendal explained in his polite tone, raising his eyes to Vincent for a split second.

Vincent smirked disbelievingly, folding his arms once more.

“If I’m not mistaken, if we were heading directly to Elonach, we would be heading to Somovere, not Anivere,” Vincent then continued, obviously not letting up on the blonde man.

Despite the elf’s efforts, Kendal remained composed, not at all intimidated by him.



“You are correct, Vincent. We’re not heading directly to Elonach,” he agreed, sending the elf another smile, to which Vincent distastefully sneered back.

“Then where are we going?” Tobias asked, entering the conversation with his bewildered look.

From the corner of his eye, Kendal saw that both Tobias and Seth were listening to the conversation now.



“Morkos,” Kendal said, and Tobias’s head crooked to Seth questioningly.

The Valkyrie became somewhat rigid in his posture, his gaze lowering to the earth between him and the Harpie.

“Morkos? Why there?” Roarke asked from behind Vincent, neither he, Vincent, nor Kendal noticing the exchange.

Kendal kept the fire in his visage.
“Unfinished business,” was all he said, his tone low.

Vincent smirked.

“Sounds promising…” Roarke said, narrowly rolling his eyes as he made his way back to the tree’s trunk. He began climbing the tree as swift as an acrobat, dropping himself back onto the branch, making himself comfortable once more.



Seth continued to stare at the soil before turned away from the group, treading off into the snow-covered woodland.


“…Where are you going, Seth?” Kendal called after him, chuckling to himself as he knew the Valkyrie could not respond.

Seth sent a goaded glance at Kendal, before he continued on in his mute silence.

“He’s going for a walk! Don’t worry. He’ll be back,” Tobias answered for him, biting down on his lip in timidity as Kendal, Vincent, and Roarke all looked to him.


Tobias’s bashfulness got the best of him, and the Harpie had to turn away, using his wings to shield himself from their inquiring eyes.

“How do you know that?” Roarke asked from the tree.

“You seem to be close friends with him,” Kendal stated, wondering how the Harpie knew the muted Valkyrie so well.

“I thought the Harpies and the Valkyries hated one another?” Roarke questioned from the tree.

“They do, but as you can see, Tobias and Seth aren’t normal,” Vincent retorted, and Tobias faced them once more in a swift movement, his wings whipping behind him.

“It’s not like that! Seth and I go back a long way… before he was a mute,” Tobias said, and Kendal became interested.

“Really? What was he like?” he asked, and Tobias smiled, his face softening as memories surfaced.

“He was very friendly, and kind to me. Always telling funny jokes and laughing,” Tobias reminisced.

“Do you know what he did to have his voice taken from him?” Kendal blurted, unable to control his curiosity.

Vincent stared at Tobias attentively as the Harpie shook his head negatively.

“I was drafted into war, placed in Roverin, long before it occurred,” Tobias said sorrowfully, bowing his head somewhat.

Vincent’s shoulders slumped as he sighed, just as curious as Kendal was.

“… A friendly… Valkyrie?” Roarke asked skeptically.


“…Bizarre, is it not?” Kendal commented, watching as Seth was returning in the distance of the trees.




“One more thing, Tobias… I noticed his ears. They’re small enough to be human ears, but have a slightly pointed edge, like an elf… and then there’s his Valkyrie wings… Does that mean he’s a mixed breed?” Kendal inquired.

“I asked him about his ears once…but he threatened to kill me if I asked him again,” Tobias whispered, covering his mouth with both hands, his eyes ample.

“Now that sounds like a Valkyrie,” Vincent chuckled as Seth came closer, finally returning to his spot beside the Harpie.

The black-winged man approached the campfire, but came to an abrupt halt when he noticed he was under surveillance.

He gestured with his hands as though to say ‘What?’

“It’s nothing, Seth,” Tobias said cheerfully, scurrying around Seth to plop down onto the timber log alongside Kendal.

Seth’s eyes followed Tobias guardedly, before shrugging and settling himself next to Vincent.



“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, Vincent?” Kendal asked quite loudly over the fire, grinning at Vincent incessantly, and the elf only returned his wicked glare, a deep glower to his mouth.

For a moment, Kendal contemplated he wouldn’t reply.

“…I was an Elven Warlord, living in the elvish kingdom of Feronach with the Monarch,” Vincent husked, chrome oculars radiant against the firelight.

Elven Warlord…

…He was almost a general…

And the Monarch?
Living with the Elven king?

“So, you come from royal heritage?” Kendal asked, and Vincent cackled sadistically, lifting a small pebble from the soil beside him, flicking it into the fire.

“No. I killed the right people to get to where I was,” the elf hissed as Tobias encircled his knees with his arms, bending forward to place his chin within the curve of his elbow.

“…How do you do it, Vincent? How do you kill people without regret? There are so many other ways to reach the top without having to do that,” Tobias whispered in his childish pitch, naïvely peeking over his forearm at the elf, whom verbally lashed at him in response.

“Because I can, Harpie. You, out of all us, shouldn’t be giving a lesson on how murder is wrong,” Vincent said brusquely, and Tobias promptly ducked behind his arm, hiding from the elf’s daunting scowl.

Kendal canted his head at Tobias, feeling somewhat sorry for the Harpie who endured Vincent’s unapproachable persona. The Harpie’s pearlescent bang swept over both of his eyes, hiding his visage at the angle that he held his head at.




“…Tobias,” Kendal called to him, and the Harpie’s eyes peered through his colorless locks.

“…Why did you slay three thousand of your own?” Kendal asked softly, but the Harpie only returned a silent stare prior to turning his head in the opposite direction, remaining unspoken.

“Too much regret, I would say,” Vincent ridiculed, and much to the surprise of Kendal, Tobias confronted Vincent with a fury that he had never seen before, and would not expect from the docile Harpie.

“Forgive me, if I’m not heartless like you, elf,” the Harpie snarled at the elf, nearly snapping his teeth in his anger.

Vincent merely snickered, almost as if he took pleasure invoking Tobias’s rage. He then hunched frontward, murmuring over the embers to speak directly to him.

“You’d have to be pretty heartless to massacre three thousand of your friends,” he whispered, an amused smirk appearing on the corner of his mouth, before he resumed his former position.

Tobias’s rage instantly sapped from his features, and he lowered his head to conceal his face once more.



“So, my Lord, what of you? Why is your precious King sending you on a mission with Pariah? I mean, whatever you’re going to do must be suicide,” Vincent began, appearing to be finished berating the Harpie.

Kendal stared at the elf for a moment, before glancing over at Seth, who was studying Tobias with his chin cupped into his palm.

The blonde man then looked upward to spot Roarke just as engulfed in the discussion, despite being several feet above them.

He then returned to stare into the fire, before he concluded his thoughts by closing his lids.

“It was my choice,” Kendal replied, and Vincent erupted into thigh-slapping laughter.

Tobias peeked over the arch of his forearm at the man warily.

“Your choice? Are you a fool?” Vincent asked, his sculpted brow rising incredulously after his laughter tamed.

No...
I wasn’t a fool for accepting the King’s proposition…

I will be halfway to Elonach once I satisfy my lust for blood and vengeance, and I will indeed search for the Sacrosanct…

But if I fail in my quest, and die in the process, it would be an honorable death...

Besides…
I’m not even sure if I want to live...

Kendal didn’t respond immediately, instead, pausing as he thought to himself.

The Pariah watched on; Vincent’s impious grin fading, Tobias’s sad oculars illuminating between the locks of his hair, Roarke’s scowl present, and Seth’s inaudibility engrossing the entire group.

“…Perhaps I am a fool for accepting this mission, knowing that it will possibly lead to my death…but there is one thing that we all have in common,” Kendal stated quietly, standing from the log, treaded away from the campfire.

He came to a slow halt after a few feet, twisting his upper half to stare at the soil at his side.

“…I’ve got nothing else to lose,” he whispered, closing his eyes.