Looking down on him, I dont feel any remorse, its almost like I enjoyed the moment. Striking my blade through his chest. It felt awkwardly good... I guess it was the culmination of everything that had happened. The culmination of my training, my efforts, my life.

He used to dream of being a king, but now he knows that was never his destiny.

His eyes finally met mine, and his jaw went slack as his mouth opened, unable to form words. The sound of my voice broke him, and he stumbled against my grip, trying to regain his feet but failing miserably.

I prayed at his body jerked and contorted, contending with my words, my voice, my power.