seon

It was still night. He couldnt sleep. Though it was an expensive room -by his standards- in the swaggers, the bed felt quite uncomfortable. Or perhaps he was used to the bed he had made at Calantha's house.

"Damn" he grumbled...

Downstairs it was empty. Silence was cast heavily in the inn. He sat up, and shoved his face in his hands. Took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

He got up and ....just stood there blankly. He looked down at his right ringfinger. Empty. No golden band embrassing it.

That night Calantha had told him everything that was troubling her since the time they lost the baby, or was that even before? She told him that Foxy approached her the next day from their stay at Covian cells and told her that he needed her support and she should show strong. Ofcourse Calantha was the one needing support, Gorn just needed to kill someone. Damn Foxy. Who was she to interfere in his personal affairs? Who said he needed support? He needed revenge, something that apparently doesn't go well with Kaldorian command. They had already forgotten the incident at the Covian inn.

He rubbed the back of his neck to send away the stiffness. He felt anger and .....he felt lost. Like an arrow sprung from a bow missing its target. He kept thinking of what Calantha had said:

"Im learning how to fight so I can talk to you..."

He looked idly out the window. Darkness all around and in his heart. It was as if Xathos himself had come and ripped his heart out, his numb body denying the death.

He leaned back against the wall next to the window. That damned laywer. Like a scavenger all around Calantha. Damn why did he have to spar her? Damn his anger, damn his hotheadedness. Now he was as when he came. Alone and hunted.

"Hunted..." He whispered to himself.

That very same night it seemed the brady bunch of Dondinians decided to accuse him of betrayal. Betrayal cause he had renounced his connection with the Goddess and instead offered himself to Raza, the God of War. Whats with them? Even the Commander -once a humble Cleric- renounced Dondinia and embraced the teachings of Raza. Didn't see anyone accusing her of anything. He had never cared fer Gods really. When he was a Sentinel he hardly managed to control his temper. Then he was accused of being too temperamental. He turned to Raza fer understanding, but it seems the Dondinians are onto a Razan-hunt, probably due to their near extinction -by the Razans -in the Great War. He would let them to their wild goose chase. He will remain out of this Gods' game they play. His concerns are more mandane, more down to earth.

At this very moment he felt unwanted. He had more or less decided to go back to Gorimdor, where his deeds will be recognized and his beliefs won't mark him as a traitor.

He had done more fer this army in one month that anyone done in a whole year. He would just wait out a proper opportunity to leave. Not much can be done here anyhow. If they wanna rip each other throats to shreds he will have nothing to do about it. He only wished the young recruits won't pay the price. He valued each and everyone of them. More than he did the others.

"Just a soldier..." He whispered with his lips tight.

All this time he was looking outside the window, the darkness. He took his gaze away from there. He rubed his ringfinger. Felt bad now....As if something was out of place.

"I wish I knew what must be done, God!" He sput out.

No reply.

'Didn't think so' he thought.

All Gods are the same. Pulling strings,never showing their faces, hidding behind their pawns, be it clerics, sentinels or disciples.

He rubbed his ring finger where the wedding ring was. There was much silence inside and outside his head for a few hours. Standing numb against the wall by the window.

His eyes then blazed with life. A decision made, he would try once again. Just one last time. It can't go worse than it already is...It can't....not with Calantha...

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