SPOILERS C3E93
Orym is tired.
The war goes on.
And more blood coats the enemies he has been hunting since the death of his husband.
Yet, he keeps hearing.
"Why should we fight?"
"What have they ever done for us?"
"Is... is it really that bad what they are doing?"
He let his frustrations out once.
"Well, I'm just sorry my family had to die to build their better world."
Then twice.
"This is the blade that killed my father and my husband. She is NOT right."
They lost their little believer, their shining bit of sunlight etched in metal.
Yet still, they waffle on commitment.
It enrages him.
Yet he does not speak.
But then, not hours later, he hears those words yet again: "Are we on the side of the gods?"
A chorus of noncommitance.
It is beyond old.
He will snap thrice.
For he is not religious.
Yet he has felt the kiss of the wind.
Heard the raven cry.
Felt the boom of thunder, the caress of the sun.
And the whisper of a web weaving in shadow.
He has known them.
He does not know that thing they fear.
He won't. He can't. He is committed.
How can they not be?
There is no certainty in the world that follows their laxity. Their noncommital.
How can they not see the world that will be built by the hands that so readily kill and butcher for their means?
That swallows life as readily as he breathes.
The conversation calms, and it moves on.
But as he traces his fingers along the shards of his lost friend, the latest on a long list of loss, he knows.
He will snap thrice, and out of respect for Letters, it will be a mighty one indeed.
Inspired by commentary on 4 Sided Dive