Mar. 22nd, 2005

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Darius slowly got to his feet, not even glancing at the sword lying in the dirt beside him. Instead he brought his hands up and looked at them for a long moment, almost as though he expected them to be different somehow, as he himself was somehow different. His hands however remained the same calloused, blood stained hands that he had always had, except that now the sight of that blood sickened him in a way that it never had before.

He took a slow breath, wondering at the new feelings that had seemed to take over the moment he had taken the quickening of the Holy Man, and knowing that somehow his life from this moment on would have to change, and change dramatically. Darius knew what the first step to that change was, but for a moment, the thought of taking that step filled him with another emotion that he was unfamiliar with, a feeling that clenched his heart and stomach in a vice.

Darius was afraid, afraid of the consequences of what he was about to do, and yet even more afraid of the consequences of not doing it. However regardless of the fear, he knew it was something that must be done. And so he turned and slowly made his way back to the encampment, back to tell his men that it was over.


The scariest thing that ever happened to me was change, and facing up to the responsibilities that change brought to me.

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Darius

July 2018

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