Elsdragon and Liberater led Darthus off to the northwest, towards a small ramshackle hut and he followed them inside. It was very sparsely furnished, two small mats of grass and hay for sleeping, and a fire in the middle, with a hole in the roof for smoke to escape. "I know it's not much", Elsdragon said as he took a seat in the lotus position on one of the mats, "but it's enough. It's a good place for us to get closer to nature and to continue Liberater's training. Please, tell us what has happened to you". Liberater leaned up against the wall casually, and motioned for Darthus to take the other vacant bedding.

Darthus took a seat on the mat; his limbs still sore and aching for the earlier flight. He began from the beginning, his childhood in Ashtan, everything. The words poured out as he realized that these two strangers were the first people he'd ever related this to, and even more startling, how he felt about what had occurred. It had all seemed like a blur while it was happening. Though as he set it out before him and organized his thoughts and feelings into words, he saw what he had really been through, what trouble he was in and how he truly had no idea what to do next.

As his story went on, Elsdragon kept calm, cool and collected, never once moving his glance from Darthus. Liberater on the other hand, was noticeably agitated by many of Darthus' stories of his experiences in the Kharon, and their "pilgrimages" to Shallam. He more than once beat his fist into his palm in anger, as if he was ready to mount a one man assault on the Kharon guildhall at that very moment. "And that is how you came to find me", Darthus finished with a sigh.

"A very interesting story indeed my friend", Elsdragon said, "you seem to me a man more suited to the honorable ways of the Sentaari. It is a shame that we had not encountered you first and saved you all this pain. Perhaps things would have turned out differently." A look of sadness passed across his features, the first visible emotion Darthus had seen since he had met the man, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by his previous stoic expression.

"I'm sorry", Darthus began, "but I probably won't be staying with you two very long, I fear I must find myself, and travel, see where my fate will take me. Fate has failed me twice, but for some reason I feel compelled to toss the dice one more time and see if I can win in the end. The third time's the charm they always say". He finished with a nervous chuckle, not sure himself how true or false that might be.

Elsdragon nodded solemnly. "Of course my friend. And remember that if you ever need aid, the Sentaari shall provide." They tended Darthus' arm and fed him some surprisingly tasty stew that filled him up nicely. "Ok, now let's get some sleep, so you don't collapse tomorrow when you head out. What would you do then when the Kharon found you without us to protect you?" Liberater said with a loud burst of laughter. He put out the fire and lied down on the bare earth. Darthus was asleep soon after.

He dreamt troubled dreams. His father laughing at him, calling him a failure, a weakling unable to stomach the truths the world holds. He saw visions of Mordicarnon turning his back on him in shame, and of Morpheus, calling him a coward, and a traitor. Then Morpheus would knock him to ground, and lift Darthus' body above his head, as he struggled feebly as a newborn kitten in his iron grasp. He simply held him there, laughing in his deep mocking tones for what seemed like an eternity. Morpheus then finally dropped to one knee and forcefully dropped Darthus' back down upon it. Then, and only then, did Darthus awaken, drenched in a cold sweat.

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Daedalan, in the year 218 AF.