Stone
Shouldn't he have regrets?
Joren blinked. Strange thing to be thinking while dying, really. Not that he was an expert on the subject or anything like that, it just seemed a bit… out of place if you will.
Blinking again, he tried to ignore the disconcerting numbness that had spread from the furthest reaches of his body inwards, until it was almost as though his arms and legs had never been there at all. Following a vain, and ultimately depressing, attempt to wiggle his fingers, Joren tried to just relax his mind, and enjoy his last minutes.
Admittedly, this was rather more difficult than he might have hoped. The cold and rough stone he was currently lying spread-eagle across wasn't helping, or the teasing whisper in the wind that blew past him. Of course, nothing was so distracting as the little voice that had decided to make itself at home in his head.
Again, it asked him if he shouldn't be begging forgiveness, or at least apologizing for his sins, which, it (he?) didn't hesitate in saying, in a nasty little tone, he had plenty of. Joren, having given up on his limbs, furrowed his brow.
In every story he had ever heard, the bad guy always always begged at the end, or at least admitted what a horrible life they had led. Obviously, he was the villain in this tale, or the Chamber wouldn't have chosen him to die. The thing was, you see, Joren wasn't exactly jumping to be repented. Actually, he couldn't think of anything he would do differently, if given the chance.
He could almost hear the wind whispering 'that is worrying…' as it whistled past him, unfortunately the voice had chosen now to bring up some incidents that others may deem improper.
You wouldn't even treat the Mindelan girl a little nicer? it asked him hesitantly. Joren held off a response for a moment, he was slightly preoccupied with the beat his heart seemed to be skipping.
"No." Joren gasped out, licking the lips the wind had chapped on its way past. "Why would I?" The last words were nothing more than a whisper, and an incoherent one at that. Anyone who had seen him in this moment would hesitate, even if only for a moment, pausing to wonder if he was really human, or just a marble statue, carved with amazing likeness.
The voice didn't respond, it appeared to have gone, perhaps given up on him. The words that barely reached his ears came instead from somewhere above him, maybe below, most likely from all around him, considering the interesting echoing effect.
"So dies Joren of Stone Mountain." There was a pause, as the speaker considered what it had just said. "How very fitting."