A faint wisp of ash and greenish-gray smoke drifted through the room, seeping into the very stone of the walls and floors. The source of such pungent pollution was easily discerned; small pieces of stone, flesh, and iron littered the room, some pieces still smoking, others seemingly ready to crumble into ash. Twisted metal mingled alongside crumbled rock, and the arms, legs, and torsos of what had once been magically living constructs were now strewn about the room without regard for their former purpose. One iron head rested in the corner, its lifeless and lidless eyes staring across the battlefield, resting upon the pair who sat close in the opposite corner; one small and unassuming as she whispered words of elvish and arcane origin, letting her magics knit the bone and flesh of her companion, leaning back against the wall in an attempt to relieve the pain he had incurred in their last altercation, such as it was.
Aerie's tender hands ran over Keldorn's shoulder, her eyes finally opening as her spells finished. She studied the newly formed skin and prodded the former wound gently, watching for any sign of pain from Keldorn's face, but it was well within the bounds of tolerability. Keldorn flexed his arm once, rotated the shoulder several times, nodding in satisfaction. He grasped the pauldron he had removed to give Aerie access to his wound and nodded in gratitude to the elven cleric as he pushed his armor back into place, the metal plate sliding together tightly despite the dents that the golems had placed in it through their massive fists.
"Thank you Aerie... it feels better. Had I been more cautious, you would not have had to waste your time and power on such wounds, but I find myself in your debt once again."
Aerie frowned and batted his arm gently with her own hand, her blue eyes coming dangerously close to rolling in the face of such unwavering gallant chivalry. "Don't be silly, Keldorn... you couldn't have known there would be three golems in that last portrait..."
Keldorn shrugged, chuckling to himself as he gazed over the wreckage from their fierce battle. He pushed himself to his feet, accepting a hand of aid from Aerie as he remained leaned up against the wall, exhaling deeply as he tried to regain his wind. "Perhaps. Yes, perhaps you are right. It changes little though; Torm himself would be ashamed to see me turn my back on an unknown source of danger after seeing merely one threat emerge. Much less my former mentor."
Aerie pursed her lips and shook her head wryly, straightening Keldorn's slightly off kilter pauldron, snapping it fully back in place. She tugged on it, ensuring it was fully together, then nodded in satisfaction. "Now you're just being self-deprecating. At least you know who your god is; I sometimes wonder about my own..."
Keldorn frowned as he gazed down at Aerie, the elf's eyes suddenly dropping as though she had said more than she had truly intended. She bit her lip nervously, then returned his questioning look. "I... forgive me, I did not mean to impose, but I had hoped to ask you a question sometime. You do not mind, do you?"
"Of course not." the paladin glanced past the girl to the others, still being treated for their last battle. Rest again, so soon... it was going too slow. Bodhi would be upon them soon, and if they had to take breathers so quickly in succession, their hopes of avoiding contact with the powerful vampire would die even quicker than they expected. Still... he turned back to Aerie with a comforting smile. No reason to deny the girl's simple request. "What troubles you?"
"I... well, I was listening to you pray a while back. The way you showed your devotion, the tone in your voice as you expressed fealty to Torm... you... you sounded like you had chosen him and him alone as your god. No room for others like Helm, or Tyr, or the like-" Aerie began, hoping her words would not prove offensive to the older paladin. If they were, he did not show it.
"My fealty belongs to Torm, true enough." Keldorn shrugged, wincing slightly as it stretched his still slightly injured shoulder. He watched the cracked walls before him blur with the pain and he made a mental note to avoid strenuous use of that arm for the time being, or at least until the healers of their party regained their abilities for another round of healing. "But I remain respectful of the other gods, particularly those who call Torm ally and friend. As you say, Tyr, Helm, even Mystra and Lathander are those to whom I offer my service should Torm be willing. Does this disturb you?"
"No... no, I just wondered about my own faith. It is so different... different from you or Jaheira. Both of you seem focused on one god and only one," Aerie voiced hesitantly, then met Keldorn's gaze with a frown. "Quayle taught me to be a cleric, but… but I know so little of the world. He taught me to worship Baervan Wildwanderer, god of the gnomes…"
Keldorn thought for a moment, "Baervan Wildwanderer: the Masked Leaf, the Forest Gnome. I have heard of him, but know little. I have dedicated my studies to the human pantheon, I fear. Still, everything that I have heard bodes well for such a choice. Does his service not appeal to you?"
"No! I mean, he has protected me well and accepted my worship for many years... but he is not the god I was raised to worship. I also give praise to Aerdrie Faenya, god of the elves... and more and more often I feel compelled to bring tithe or prayer to Mystra, goddess of magic... a human goddess. Everyone around me knows who their god is and who their heart belongs to, but here I am, neither elf nor gnome nor human in my beliefs but a… a hodge-podge of them all- am I wrong to be that way, Keldorn?" she questioned.
Keldorn smiled, and then shook his head as he placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezing the azure and gold colored shoulder just a bit. "Wrong? No, my dear... not in the least. To some you are the ideal; you have dedicated yourself to the church in all its forms, not restricting yourself based on race or creed, but by following your heart."
"I... it sounds nice, but I must confess I'm not entirely sure what you mean." Aerie blushed, Keldorn chuckling as he motioned for her to sit again, noting the healing and work that was still being done across the room with Jaheira and Minsc.
Keldorn sighed in contentment as he rested himself again, shifting off a few stray rocks and stones that were below him, then tried to explain once again. "You see, we all have a tendency, perfectly natural because we are but mortals, to try and restrict our worship; we divide the pantheons to those with whom we can relate to the most. Perhaps it is hubris, or a base form of racism... one could hardly expect a human to worship an elven god, or an elf to pray to a god of the dwarves. Or at least, that is what is believed."
"I do suppose it would be hard to imagine my people showing fealty to the halfling goddess of the Hearth." Aerie chuckled, her voice light with the soft tones of her laughter echoing from the cavernous room's walls.
"Exactly." Keldorn nodded with a smile. "We find it easiest to pray to those deities who are easiest to appease, or to those who appear to have the greatest impact on our lives and thus the rest are ignored. Jaheira no doubt feels respect for more than merely Silvanus, just as my feelings are not limited to Torm, but they are the ones we have chosen as our own. Were we as open and wise as you, perhaps I would be a paladin of both Torm and Tyr. One only knows how willing the gods are to share loyalties, though."
"Wise as me?" Aerie repeated in what sounded like both flattered embarrassment as well as a hint of disbelief. "I don't think I'm quite that deserving of your compliments, Keldorn..."
"No, I think you are." he persisted, shaking his head. "Your life has not been easy, Aerie, but it has taught you much in its own way."
She listened quietly for a moment longer, then shook her head with a laugh, letting the blonde braids of her hair flutter a bit before she straightened them again. "Oh thank you Keldorn... one of these days you'll have to teach me all the things you say I know."
"Or you me, Aerie. Or you me... if I survive long enough that is." Keldorn chuckled with a hint of resignation. "Would that Torm would grant me vigor for these last days. 'Tis a terrible thing, what old age does to a body in its declining years. Not that you shall have to experience it for several centuries to come. I shall be honest; there are times I wish for a hint of elf blood in my own veins, if only to ease the burden these bones carry."
"If it is any consolation, I would not trade you for a dozen younger men in their prime." Aerie declared, folding her arms rather defiantly at his previous statements. "I remember elf warriors from my home who fought with less strength and skill than I see from you every day."
Keldorn barked a laugh, straightening one leg as he watched the others draw near to the end of their healing processes. A giggle of laughter erupted from Imoen as Greywulf spoke with her across the room, the two undoubtedly still catching up after being separated for so long. Keldorn smiled at the sight, then shrugged as his gaze returned to Aerie. "I am not the young man who attempted to join the ranks of the Order so many years ago, Aerie. I would be lying if I did not admit that retirement has crossed my mind more and more these days... a permanent respite from toil and battle... I cannot help but feel that I have earned it on some level. Pride, perhaps."
"Or the truth." Aerie snorted, her hands resting upon the familiar feel of her quarterstaff as she talked. "You have been so faithful that the very god you serve has appeared to you, granted you a gift from his own hands... oh how amazing it must have been! I can only pray Baervan might see fit to grant me the same boon someday..."
"Perhaps. But I do not exaggerate when I say my best days are long since spent." the man seemed to take on the years he so often hid, his shoulders sagging a bit as he spoke. For some reason, he now looked every bit the fifty-nine year old he was. "Twenty years ago I fought a Balor demon one on one and emerged victorious... now I falter under the onslaught of a horde of zombies. Heh. No Aerie... I have come to a decision, even if it has been some time in the making. This... this fight with Irenicus will be my last. I will help you and the rest regain the souls of Greywulf and Imoen, bring this Irenicus to justice... but that will be the end. My time is over... and I cannot think of a more worthy venture to end my career upon."
"You're truly ready to quit?" Aerie asked in surprise, not really believing him until she met his eyes, the weary yet resigned determination lying within. "Retiring from the Order?"
"Yes... almost. Perhaps they will ask me to perform some desk job or officiating position, but I could not bear it. Too many years spent on the battlefield with my fellow knights and paladins... I could not handle the more subtle warfare of bureaucracy. But you bring to mind another point... I have one last battle to fight after this has ended."
Aerie thought for a moment, then realized what he was talking about; by the hardness in his eyes and the gritty memories flashing over his face it could be no other. "Firkraag."
"Yes. I will challenge this dragon; whether with the might of the Radiant Heart at my back or alone, I will no longer let his predations and wickedness corrupt the Realms. His confession is enough for my oath as a paladin... I can act upon his guilt and act I shall. I will see my family's honor and memory restored before the end, my oath to Torm."
His fierce gaze and intense tone suddenly faltered as he suddenly blinked, looking back at Aerie as though suddenly realizing where he was once more. He blushed a slight shade of crimson, then shook his head apologetically. "Ah, forgive me, Aerie. I should not be so open with my oaths and the like- forget I said anything. For now, it appears as though Jaheira has finished treating Minsc. If we are to escape we must hurry. I will ensure they are ready to leave; perhaps you should do the same with Imoen and Greywulf?"
Aerie nodded as Keldorn stood once more, his plate armor clinking just slightly as he moved to the other side of the room, his frame just as strong and stately as before. Aerie watched him with a hint of admiration before moving herself. Behind the chivalry, the dignity, the pious devotion and the gentle wisdom was still just a man: vulnerable, fatigued, and at the end of his rope. But by every star in heaven, she had never met another man who hid it so well as Sir Keldorn Firecam. Or, she thought to herself before moving, one who not only dared to defend himself against the terrors and pain of the world... but he fought back. Went on the offensive. And with the help of a few friends, he was winning.
X X X X X X X
"Wait just a minute…" Imoen abruptly said, her eyes widening as she raised one hand, staring at Greywulf's bemused look. She shook her head once, popped herself in the ears as though clearing them out so she could hear what he had just said again without trouble. "Twenty thousand gold pieces?! Twenty thousand?? Two with four zero's after it?!! How in the Realms did you raise that much money?!"
Greywulf chuckled, leaning back as his mind buzzed, racing over all the different things they had done since arriving in Athkatla. After their fight with the golems, Greywulf had been worried about a similar reaction as he had experienced after the djinni, and he had good reason to fear as well. Still, both Jaheira and Keldorn watched him closely as the fight ended, or as close as Keldorn could with his shoulder broken from the fist of an iron golem. He looked over to see Aerie and the paladin speaking, the elf treating his wound with all her considerable skill while Jaheira did the same with Minsc. No, there were no more fainting spells or glowing eyes... and he had never been more thankful. Turning back to Imoen, he shrugged and spouted off a list of the first things that drifted to memory. "Oh, you know… the usual. A beholder cult here, a troll invasion there... you do enough jobs and the rewards add up."
"Heh… now I remember why traveling with you was so much fun, you know? It's good to know you're still the same guy I grew up with, Mr. Do-gooder." Imoen laughed, crossing her legs with minimal effort, unable to sit completely still while they spoke. She looked on him with admiration, the love in her eyes never more clear, but her gaze slowly turned serious. "But anyways… you didn't have to do all that. I mean, I'd have killed you if you didn't pull out all the stops to rescue sweet little Imoen, but… all that money, all that time and effort, just to save me… thanks, Greywulf. I mean it."
"You'd have done the same thing for me." he smiled, leaning over to plant a small kiss on her cheek, dirty and dusty though they all were.
"Meh, don't be so sure." Imoen waggled one finger as Greywulf arched one eyebrow, crossing his arms in mock testiness. "Just think… Imoen, greatest of all Bhaalspawn, new leader of the most powerful group of adventurers on Faerun! With the mighty Minsc and Boo, the slightly overbearing Jaheira, mysterious and beautiful Imoen sweeps through Amn, performing deeds of heroism unmatched, except maybe by that other guy…. You know, the one involved with Sarevok and stopping the whole iron thing…"
Greywulf scowled playfully, though he had already prepared a comeback he knew would sting. "Oh really. Maybe you're right, I mean it wasn't that big a deal, saving that one playhouse from inter-planar bounty hunters… of course we had to jump through a planar worm hole to save the troupe, but you're right, nothing special."
Imoen's eyes bulged at that; losing all semblance of pride or haughtiness; her voice dropped to a whisper, slowly rising in pitch with every word. "You mean… you got to travel through the planes WITHOUT ME?!"
Greywulf laughed, scrambling away from the slap to his arm that was coming as Imoen protested, reliving their short adventure with Raelis Shai and their first encounter with Haer'Dalis. It had been just before they set out for Firkraag's dungeon, and in all truth had only taken place in the course of eight hours, but it had still been a harrowing experience. No money gained, no magical items... nothing. Just surviving the experience had been enough for them.
"Well, it wasn't anything too spectacular, to tell the truth," Greywulf continued, watching Imoen's scowl grow with each word. "The demons and tieflings we had to fight there were a bit on the wimpy side-"
Imoen waved her arms, shaking her head wildly as the pink strands of her hair smacked Greywulf in the face gently. "Gaah! Enough already, I don't want to hear about it! Next thing I know you'll be telling me about some king you saved, or a frost giant village you freed, or Mask forbid a dragon you slew…"
"Actually, that last one's not to far off the mark… although Minsc is a bit sore about not getting to finish that particular fight." the mage smirked.
Imoen sighed, then said testily, "All right, fair enough. But the next time you go plane hopping or dragon slaying, I'd better be there to have fun with you guys. Got it?"
"Of course, dear Imoen. Wouldn't dream of leaving you behind again." he promised with a nod, finally eliciting a genuine smile from Imoen again, all traces of envy gone.
Imoen appeared to be satisfied with that answer, then scanned the room once more, looking at each of their companions. They appeared to be just about ready for action, though it would be a few more minutes before everyone's healing was complete. Not that anyone really wanted to fight the mind flayer that remained... but it wasn't truly as though they had a choice. She paused as her gaze ran over Jaheira for a moment. The druid was as stoic as ever, her face betraying none of the emotion that undoubtedly still brewed under the surface. She sighed and turned back to Greywulf, gesturing back towards Jaheira with a thumb. "How've things been goin with the original groupies? Minsc is still our favorite mad ranger... but Jaheira doesn't look like she's over what happened yet. Can't say I blame her."
"No... she's been through quite a bit recently. Aside from Khalid's death, I mean." Greywulf sighed, straightening the belt of potions and pouches that hung from his waist. "I already told you about the Harpers... to be honest, I don't know how much longer she can go on like this. Not without some kind of resolution in her own mind. Everything that happens she puts on her own shoulders, and no matter how much we try... well, she won't give the burden up."
The thief-mage nodded, preparing to speak again if not for the approaching figure of Aerie coming their way. Keldorn was across the room, speaking with Minsc and Jaheira; they were apparently all set to move once more. "Ready to go?" Greywulf asked, pushing himself up the wall to a standing position along with Imoen. Aerie nodded, gesturing towards the opposite three. "I think Jaheira's finished with Minsc; Keldorn's feeling better too. As long as neither of them push too hard, they should be fine by tomorrow."
"Considering we might not even live till tomorrow, I'd say you two did fine work." Greywulf quipped, motioning for them to follow. "Let's get going then, eh?"
The six reunited before the wall of terrors they had been facing before; only one portrait stood inactivated. Imoen studied the drawing of the mind flayer, its tentacled face grotesque even in art form. Blades were raised and spells prepared; a few minor protections, hopefully enough to counter any sudden attacks or unexpected ambushes, were placed on them by Aerie and Jaheira. Minsc stepped to one side of the wall, Keldorn to the other while Greywulf moved up, sliding the stone portrait inward with the groan of gears and magic. The walls slid upward, the only other sound that of sharp intake of breath in anticipation of the fight-
Greywulf abruptly straightened, frowning as he peered down the empty hallway behind the portrait. They waited several seconds, but nothing came. No chittering of alien origin, no flash of psychic power to take over their minds or drain their very brains. Just an empty corridor, albeit a long one, but empty nonetheless. Minsc peered around the corner, stepping out fully as he lowered the Sword of Chaos. "Minsc is confused."
"It's always the last door you pick. Makes sense though... who would say, 'Ooo, I want to fight the mind flayer first!'." Imoen sighed, stepping forward as she leaned into the corridor, peering at the cobwebbed hall, wrinkling her nose as she coughed, dust permeating every square inch of the exit. "Eww... the place looks like it's been covered in old Kobold doo. Smells like it too..."
Imoen took one step inside the enclosed chamber- and all hell broke loose. The chamber they stood in rumbled, rock from the ceiling above crumbling and collapsing under the intense magical activation. The five outside the corridor hurled themselves in, just as the room behind them collapsed completely. Billows of dust and smoke curled up through the ruin, choking the very air around them. "Everyone make it all right?" Greywulf choked out, drawing his cloak up around him as he tried to breathe through the polluted air.
"I... cough... I think so." Jaheira managed, eyes tearing badly as she looked up, covering her mouth and nose with an arm. "But we-"
Another rumble shook the ground underneath their feet, almost throwing Aerie to the ground had Minsc not reached out to steady her. A large crack split with the sound of a thunderclap above their heads, once more sending small chunks of rock and stone tumbling from above as the very tunnel they stood in began to implode, the second step of a death trap that had been sprung. Nobody needed directions of any kind or orders on what to do; six adventurers flew down the passage, trying desperately to beat the clock in a deadly hail of death.
X X X X X X X
Yoshimo screamed a cry to the heavens, his raw voice echoing through the room he was in. Irenicus had given him leave to depart after the spell had been finished, knowing that everything had gone as the wizard had desired. Of course, he had obeyed. He could do no other. No matter how much he had wanted to draw his katanas, strike Irenicus down and free those he had called friend… he couldn't.
He was too weak. Everyone he had cared for, everything he had valued, all of it was gone now. All because he had acted without thinking. Acted out of grief and anger instead of common sense. She had always told him that he was too impulsive, and she had been right. In this case it had cost him everything. Only a fool swore a Geas of service so rashly, and he was apparently that fool. He fingered the bow he was holding, running one hand down the wood of the shaft. It had been the property of one of Galvarey's Harpers' that he had killed alongside Greywulf and the others; of Tuigan make, it was both magical and valuable.
He threw it to the side in anger, guilt ridden and miserable. He was honorless, friendless, and forever indentured to the monster he hated so much. The same monster he would obey unto death at a moment's notice. He was trapped, and truly had no way out. Too late now, anyway. He had seen Bodhi and her coven take the party away; since the vampire had returned, it was safe to assume she had followed Irenicus' orders. They were all dead now... and he longed to join them in that death. He fingered the dagger at his belt, knowing how futile the thoughts were. He had already tried several times, and to not avail. Irenicus' power would not be denied so easily; just one simple slash and he could not even manage that. He sank down on the bed beside him, weeping bitterly with his face in his hands. The sobs would have continued to rack his body for hours on end if not for the sound of his door creaking open, the commanding presence that entered drawing his attention. He looked up at Irenicus' impassive visage, knowing how weak and pathetic he seemed to the wizard before him.
"Stand."
Yoshimo obeyed, trying his best to compose himself before the bemused villain, exhaling deeply as he awaited his orders. "What would you have me do, master?"
Irenicus whipped one backhand across Yoshimo's face, his neck snapping to the side. "Cease your incessant wailing... it is of no use. You belong to me now. Am I clear?"
Yoshimo inhaled sharply, his eyes glittering with futile rage. "Yes... master."
"Good." Irenicus sneered at his impotent anger and then turned, presenting his side profile to the bounty hunter. "Now, to business at hand. It has come to my attention that my foolish sister has disobeyed my orders; rather than disposing of the Bhaalspawn as I had commanded, she has set them loose... with their weapons and equipment as well, in the maze below. Undeath has made her focus weak, her mind falter."
Yoshimo's breath caught in his throat as Irenicus snarled, still disgusted with his sister's actions. If he noticed the glimmer of hope that rose in the thief's eyes, he did not show it. "You mean to say, that Greywulf and his companions yet live? The maze has not proven their end?"
"Not yet... though it may well do so. Still, I have taken steps to rectify the problem; Bodhi and her coven are hunting the soulless ones as we speak. I doubt Greywulf will survive her hunt... but all things are possible. If the fools escape- if they evade or even defeat my sister, I must not be taken by surprise. So, my servant... what will they do?" Irenicus queried, his voice darkening with each word.
Yoshimo frowned, not quite understanding. "What will they do? If they escape, you mean?"
"Yes. You traveled with them for months. If they should escape, what will they do? How will they seek to challenge me? You will tell me, and I will be prepared for any assault they might possibly conceive of."
Rushes of possibility ran through his head unbid, every memory of his time with the party coming to a head at once. His conscious mind tried to push the thoughts away; if Greywulf and the others could come up with a scheme to defeat Irenicus, the last thing he wanted to do was spoil it... but Irenicus apparently saw his struggle, and with a snarl he tightened one fist, the Geas on his soul activating. Yoshimo doubled over in pain as fire consumed his insides, burning and scorching for each ounce of resistance he put up. The pain... too great. Too much. Far too much. He dropped to one knee as the pain subsided; Yoshimo looked up at Irenicus, sweat covering his face as despair filled his heart.
"The... the inmates. He knows he cannot match you in his weakened state, and he will try to turn the asylum inmates against you." Yoshimo managed, trying to avoid meeting the dark wizard's gaze, turning everywhere but his eyes.
"Such an action would be highly dangerous." Irenicus mused, frowning at the bounty hunter. "Are you certain? Would he truly risk such a wonderfully mad gambit?"
"Aye, he is brave... or foolish enough to do so." Yoshimo bit out, each word costing him dearly as he tried to fight, but to no avail. The hold on his soul was too powerful and he was little more than a puppet on strings at this point.
"Then prepare yourself." Irenicus growled, turning to leave. Have your equipment ready and be at my side from now until I receive word that the Bhaalspawn is dead. You still carry the wands I gave you to quell the inmates previously? You will use them when Greywulf arrives... you will be the instrument that crushes his last hopes."
Tears glistened in Yoshimo's eyes as he listened, whispering hoarsely, "Yes, my master."
The door slammed behind Irenicus as Yoshimo's shaking hands drew out the wands from his pack, the shining rods that glowed with magic and power. Each one was specifically tuned to an inmate; with one use he could render each of the powerful deviants useless at least, dead at most. Greywulf would use their power, of that he was sure. He had not been able to lie about it to Irenicus, and now the villain knew Greywulf's plans. Another burden for Yoshimo's already blackened heart to bear. He fought back the tears as he gathered the rest of his equipment and proceeded to head out towards the main experimentation room where Irenicus did most of his work-
One wand fell from its place on his belt, clattering to the stone floor. He knelt down, picking it up; he was about to place the rod in his belt again, but something stopped him. The gleam of power, the possibility contained within... more than one possibility. It could destroy life... or it could possibly save it. All depending on what he did. His decision. Even as he considered the thoughts that flitted across his brain, he felt his guts twisting into knots, nearly dropping him to the ground. No... too powerful. Too much pain for him to even consider it. His hand convulsed involuntarily, letting the wand fall again, rolling to rest before him. The edges of his vision blurred a tinted shade of red, the sound of his heart thumping in his chest was a roaring in his ears as he reached down for the wand.
"Apologies are easy, Yoshimo..." Keldorn's words cut into his soul and strength like a sword through flesh. He drew back, inhaling sharply as his defeated resignation melted away.
"It is repentance that is difficult." Truer than he knew... so hard to do anything. So hard to act like anything but the traitor he was. Yoshimo clutched his head as he tried to calm himself, his own breaths coming quicker and shorter now, hyperventilating with each second.
"If you truly wish to ease your own guilt, let it be through your deeds." Deeds? No... too many deeds already. Too many betrayals, too many hurt because of his deeds... his wretched, despicable deeds-
"Do what you know is right." Right? Not just right. Fair. Just. Honorable. Everything he had once held dear and counted as the highest of the high, the standards of living and action that no matter what, he would not falter from-
Two possibilities. Geas hurts like hell, making his world spin like a maelstrom of wind, hurling his equilibrium to the sky as he considered it more and more-
One choice. Never get another chance to make things right, never get honor back... not even this would be enough-
Minutes passed... pain surged... and Yoshimo made his choice.
