And so he ran. There was no place to go, no place to hide. He knew it would all catch up with him one day, he would have to face it. But he had been running all his life, he couldn't stop now. That man would catch up with him. Not the one who he told everyone was after him, another man, one who held the life he ran to preserve in his hands.
Coward, his companion called him.
Why not stand and fight against this man who wants you dead instead of running?
But he was a liar as well. The one who wanted him dead might very well chase him to the ends of the earth, but he knew his pursuer's true motives: the man knew he would eventually kill the world, it was his destiny, but he tried to tempt fate by ordering another man to end it for him. But he was a coward, and ran. He ran to the ends of the earth, under the guise of searching for that which is lost, under the mask of a smile. If he could just smile and act the fool, no one would know his purpose, right?
And so he ran. He ran from the man in the shadows, the other man, who held his life in his hands. The shadow man had forced the coward to choose, and so used his choice against him, forced him to serve his shadow plot as a pawn in the worldwide chess game. To betray the very people who thought him a friend in the search for that which is lost.
One day it would all catch up to him, he knew. So, being the coward he was, he ran. But is it really cowardly to run from that which you cannot defeat? It is inconsequential. He was born a cursed man, he will live a cursed man, and he will die a cursed man.
It's merely fate.
And so he ran.