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“See how it is, brother… These are the kinds of things that happen.”
Garrett muttered to himself as he put Harold back together. Before him lay the skull and the knife once more.
One – a crazed guard captain, effortlessly cutting down anyone who stands in his way. The other – a mysterious sorceress, capable of taking down an elephant and ripping out its heart with minimal effort. And in the background, the gray masses – the Carnelians pretending to be significant participants in the conflict.
“And even from there, that brute could have been stunned or a couple of toxic splinters could have hit him. Well, it could have. But I still did what I wanted… When else will I get a chance to tie up a guard captain and take away his weapons? Heh. All that was missing was to slit his throat for complete dominance.”
He shifts his gaze to the knife.
“Forgive me for not letting the guard bleed, I know you like that. It was worth giving credit to the Mirai witch; without her, this madman would have definitely slaughtered everyone. Too powerful for our humble group. Yeah, that’s how it is… Well, never mind, we’ll get better, maybe someday we’ll be able to resist something like that.”
Aster himself didn’t know why he continued to do this, understanding that his brother wouldn’t hear or answer. Maybe this fragment of spiritual connection is still flickering, or maybe it’s just a habit. Be that as it may, it had a calming and even encouraging effect – which is funny, because the real Harold was more likely to inspire the opposite feelings. He even thought that maybe he was better off without him.
This last thought somehow really didn’t appeal to him, so Garrett returned to the previous one. And, having put his brother back together, he headed for the exit from Carnelia.
Garrett goes to train in Ironhold. (for now, just once)
Garrett muttered to himself as he put Harold back together. Before him lay the skull and the knife once more.
One – a crazed guard captain, effortlessly cutting down anyone who stands in his way. The other – a mysterious sorceress, capable of taking down an elephant and ripping out its heart with minimal effort. And in the background, the gray masses – the Carnelians pretending to be significant participants in the conflict.
“And even from there, that brute could have been stunned or a couple of toxic splinters could have hit him. Well, it could have. But I still did what I wanted… When else will I get a chance to tie up a guard captain and take away his weapons? Heh. All that was missing was to slit his throat for complete dominance.”
He shifts his gaze to the knife.
“Forgive me for not letting the guard bleed, I know you like that. It was worth giving credit to the Mirai witch; without her, this madman would have definitely slaughtered everyone. Too powerful for our humble group. Yeah, that’s how it is… Well, never mind, we’ll get better, maybe someday we’ll be able to resist something like that.”
Aster himself didn’t know why he continued to do this, understanding that his brother wouldn’t hear or answer. Maybe this fragment of spiritual connection is still flickering, or maybe it’s just a habit. Be that as it may, it had a calming and even encouraging effect – which is funny, because the real Harold was more likely to inspire the opposite feelings. He even thought that maybe he was better off without him.
This last thought somehow really didn’t appeal to him, so Garrett returned to the previous one. And, having put his brother back together, he headed for the exit from Carnelia.
Garrett goes to train in Ironhold. (for now, just once)