Noctisardor Bypass teil eins

Mahler seemed incredulous that his own son would make such a promise. It was perhaps not truly a promise, but it was a request. Ask him instead. Perhaps a request that he may remain unblemished himself of such sins. Perhaps a knowledge that his father was a warrior. That his father, despite his own words, was a killer. He did, Laurel confirmed, her words curt and sharp.

He had chased wolves from their home for nothing more than a feeling of nostalgia. Killing, then, didn't seem so far off to Laurel. For now her fear had been replaced by hope; a hope that burned within her and that made her more unforgiving and more forceful than she would normally be. That made her more her than she would normally be.

Even though he did not admit to her request he entertained her for the moment. Laurel felt powerful to have him cornered, in a position he was clearly uncomfortable in. The position of potential killer; or at least, the position of being viewed as such by his own son.

When he asked to know about Merrick, Laurel could not help but wonder if it was because he needed to be able to sleep at night. That he'd do it, but he needed to know why. He needed to know it was for the better. Not just for Laurel, perhaps, but for the better of the world. Laurel, for the first time, broke a little as she thought of him, and she looked away. But when she looked back at Mahler again there was a burning determination in her eyes and voice once more. Merrick was my sister's son, she started. This was his biggest sin. Not to be born as her son, but to be able to kill his own mother. My biggest regret in this life is that I did not kill him when he was born. It was too late for regrets, and it showed that she did not truly expect herself to have known the implications of not doing this in the past. It wasn't that easy. But oh, if only she could have.

When he told me that he killed my dear Indra, Laurel began, her eyes shimmering as she spoke and her breath coming out in quivers, His eyes were rife with madness. He often attacked Easthollow, he and his pack of misfits. He killed wolves there, too. He lives not all that far from here. She paused briefly before she added: He's crazy. He's unpredictable. He has a lust for blood. He's not just someone who deserves to die for killing someone who loved him more than anything in the world. Except maybe you, my dearest. Except maybe you. Perhaps that's the sin that he killed her for. He's a threat. Her eyes were sharp as she looked at Mahler imploringly.

She'd started off thinking that she could convince him, perhaps, by being weak and pathetic and afraid. But when she finished explaining why he was not just a threat to her own wellbeing, but to Rivenwood's, there was a fire burning inside of Laurel's soul that showed she was not weak, pathetic or afraid anymore.