Over the Edge

This was not how it was supposed to happen.

He had come to confront Saerk with their suspicions, to have the scoundrel confess his part in Moira's death. Then, he would have had him brought before the courts.

Anomen glanced around the room as the red haze of anger faded from his mind. Aerie stood in a corner, looking as though she were about to throw up; Minsc was patting her hand. Yoshimo was cleaning his blade with a scrap of a dead guard's tunic. For once in his life, Jan appeared to be at a loss for words.

Saerk's body lay crumpled at Anomen's feet, beaten into an almost unrecognizable mass. He could barely remember the obscenities that Saerk had spouted, goading him into attacking; the mouth that had spewed those hateful words had been completely obliterated, along with the rest of the merchant's head.

The body of Saerk's daughter lay a short distance away. Her one remaining eye stared blindly, accusingly, at him.

"What have I done," he whispered.

"You avenged your sister." Alaeth said softly from behind him. "He would never have been brought to justice in any other way."

"But his daughter..." By Helm, he never should have laid hands on her. How could he have done such a thing?

"You let yourself go, and she got in your path," Alaeth said. "It was an accident."

He turned and looked into her eyes, and found only understanding.

She was right. It had been an accident. It would not happen again, and he would atone for it; he would push himself twice as hard to fulfill the tenets of the Order. Surely he would be allowed this one indiscretion, if he could keep to an otherwise flawless path!

"Let us leave this place," Alaeth said, and took him by the arm. He followed obediently, willing himself to not think of how easily he had given in to his fury.

Or about how much he had enjoyed it.