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"I didn't change. You did."
The words seemed to echo in Darius’ mind as he walked slowly back to his rectory after the police had left him alone. He sat down at his desk and picked up a small wooden cross, slowly running his fingertips over the wood and then sighing softly to himself. He had changed, drastically, in an instant.
He had taken the quickening from a holy man, and in so doing had radically altered his own life from one breath to the next. Beliefs that had not been his but a moment before had suddenly taken a hold of him, and changed the way he viewed the world. Ideas and dreams that he had once possessed had become contemptible in his eyes, and he had discarded them as though they were nothing.
It wasn’t that he wanted to go back to that life, or to those dreams, because that wasn’t it at all. His thoughts were not going back to that time because he wanted those things, but because Grayson’s words had made him wonder what exactly in his life was truly his own.
His possessions were not something he considered to be his own as the few that he had could quite easily be taken from him. His friends were not truly his as they were people in their own right and belonged to no one but themselves. Even his life was not his own, as he had given it in service to his beliefs and the cause of peace. Now he found himself wondering if even his thoughts and feelings could really be considered his own after the confrontation with Emrys.
Darius looked once more at the cross in his hand and thought about all the good that he had done since that day at the gates of Paris. He thought about the many memories he had of people that he had helped find the way of peace and he realized that it didn’t really matter anyway. Even if his thoughts, feelings, and ideals had been another’s originally, they were his now, and ones that he was more than happy to give away to anyone with a mind to listen.
The words seemed to echo in Darius’ mind as he walked slowly back to his rectory after the police had left him alone. He sat down at his desk and picked up a small wooden cross, slowly running his fingertips over the wood and then sighing softly to himself. He had changed, drastically, in an instant.
He had taken the quickening from a holy man, and in so doing had radically altered his own life from one breath to the next. Beliefs that had not been his but a moment before had suddenly taken a hold of him, and changed the way he viewed the world. Ideas and dreams that he had once possessed had become contemptible in his eyes, and he had discarded them as though they were nothing.
It wasn’t that he wanted to go back to that life, or to those dreams, because that wasn’t it at all. His thoughts were not going back to that time because he wanted those things, but because Grayson’s words had made him wonder what exactly in his life was truly his own.
His possessions were not something he considered to be his own as the few that he had could quite easily be taken from him. His friends were not truly his as they were people in their own right and belonged to no one but themselves. Even his life was not his own, as he had given it in service to his beliefs and the cause of peace. Now he found himself wondering if even his thoughts and feelings could really be considered his own after the confrontation with Emrys.
Darius looked once more at the cross in his hand and thought about all the good that he had done since that day at the gates of Paris. He thought about the many memories he had of people that he had helped find the way of peace and he realized that it didn’t really matter anyway. Even if his thoughts, feelings, and ideals had been another’s originally, they were his now, and ones that he was more than happy to give away to anyone with a mind to listen.
