11-18-2016, 12:41 AM
And that was when the strange Miqo'te, the same one that had been here when he awoke from his slumber; the same one that had insisted that the two were close; the same one that had somehow showed him memories of himself of which he had no recollection, kissed him.
He was shocked, at first. He had not expected such a... powerful reaction from one who had not heard Her voice. From one who did not champion Her cause.
He felt sorrow. He knew that these thoughts, these feelings, these memories that the girl had showered upon him were genuine... but he had no recollection of them. No intention of reciprocating them. For he was a servant of Remora - the Spear of Justice.
He moves his hands to her shoulders and moves her away from him, slowly. He looks at her, remorse in his eyes. "I am sorry," he says. "Whatever you think I am... I am not that anymore. I am truly, truly sorry."
And he is. There is no Justice in his words. It is clear to him that she is genuine in the tears that had begun to stream down her cheek. It would have been clear to him, even without her soul laid bare before him, as she had done. Trying to reach the man that he perhaps once was. Trying to reach the man that she wishes he was.
But, alas, he was no more.
"I... I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry, I..." she says. Any other words are lost in the sorrow of her voice as she flees from the room.
There is no Justice in this. But it is so. There is naught he can, or would, do about it. For he is a sworn brother of Remora. The Spear of Justice. And he is one with Her purpose.
He was shocked, at first. He had not expected such a... powerful reaction from one who had not heard Her voice. From one who did not champion Her cause.
He felt sorrow. He knew that these thoughts, these feelings, these memories that the girl had showered upon him were genuine... but he had no recollection of them. No intention of reciprocating them. For he was a servant of Remora - the Spear of Justice.
He moves his hands to her shoulders and moves her away from him, slowly. He looks at her, remorse in his eyes. "I am sorry," he says. "Whatever you think I am... I am not that anymore. I am truly, truly sorry."
And he is. There is no Justice in his words. It is clear to him that she is genuine in the tears that had begun to stream down her cheek. It would have been clear to him, even without her soul laid bare before him, as she had done. Trying to reach the man that he perhaps once was. Trying to reach the man that she wishes he was.
But, alas, he was no more.
"I... I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry, I..." she says. Any other words are lost in the sorrow of her voice as she flees from the room.
There is no Justice in this. But it is so. There is naught he can, or would, do about it. For he is a sworn brother of Remora. The Spear of Justice. And he is one with Her purpose.