Noctisardor Bypass [m] can you shatter my mirror to see outside myself

She stopped in her tracks when he said he had nothing. She glanced over her shoulder when he described that he loved his children and that he loved a woman but that he had damaged things beyond repair. This was a story that Laurel could get behind; she'd ruined her own life and those of her children when she had lost Indra. Yet she had let it go, had let them go. She was here for a new start, rather than clinging on desperately and foolishly to old wretched things.

The problem with irreparable things was that they were still broken, however way you looked at it. The only relation she'd never broken was Indra, but all others she had left far behind because there was nothing but broken glass there. Nothing but shards to pick up. With Xan, she'd given it another chance but in the end it came down to the same thing; she cut herself.

Where she wanted to leave behind all the broken glass and blow a new object, he just wanted to roll around in the shards and cut himself some more. It was clear to Laurel that this woman he loved did not love him the same way, for otherwise she would've been a part of their pack. Laurel was unaware that what she was accusing him of was much like what he'd been accused of by Wylla; what had spurred some of this devotion in the first place.

You are a fool for holding on to splintered bones that will only stab your gums for the rest of your life, Laurel said as she turned towards him once more, the pain of her words written on her face, but her voice calmer now. If you will be left with nothing at the end of this it's because you chose it to be that way. We could have had everything. We could have been happy, here. Rivenwood was supposed to be a place to find peace, not to hold onto a past that brings us nothing. I believed that, when you said it first. Laurel sounded solemn yet resentful. They could've been happy, but he chose to wallow in the mistakes of his past. Broken glass starting to mar the part between them now, too.

The trust a distant dream, as he offered to provide her with an escort. While it was intended well, it brought forth an insulted scoff from Laurel. I don't need any more to be a part of this humiliation. I will go alone, she said solemnly as she looked away. Laurel felt oddly calm, even though she was still seething -- self-loathing the highest, then hate for his choices, frustration, pain, grief, all muddled together at the end -- but at least for now she had recollected her calm so she couldn't further debase herself.