For whatever reason, he does not continue to debate with me on the philosophy of our lives, and though it does not truly bother me, I wonder if, for once, I have actually won, having never before been able to determine a victory in either of our jousts. I had always viewed this as veritable evidence that he and I were brothers, indeed, perfect matched in the field of jabbing, mental daggers, and the sweeping rapiers of thought. He left with new knowledge, as did I, and onwards we went, to forge our great wakes through a sea of nobodies.

I sought a kingdom, to protect those I loved within, to keep them close, and unwavering; Erebos sought simply to protect them.

He is far more honorable a creature than I am, and always has been, having been raised by the truly noble, rather than wolves in royal regalia. It’s this thought I settle on, this truth, to be the foundation of my verbal conquest today; he’s just less of an arrogant dick than I am. Duir’s laughter, a silent, mental bell of warm, and closeness, rings through my mind, in perfect agreement with my rationale.

"General?" I say, my brows rising upwards, a jealous pride rising in my chest, as my smile rises again. Of course he would become a General; it had been his father’s path, after all, and it is certainly more dignified a role than any I’ve ever played in this world. Seeing some of his apprehension, knowing the furrowed lines of worry to be what they are, only because I know him. I might have missed it, were he someone less important, but it’s a familiar face, one that, perhaps, I was the first to see. He was always worrying about the repercussions, even as a child, and never the fun to be had along the way; maybe Erebos really did need me around, if for no other reason than to give him a figurative kick in the ass at times like these. "It suits you, lineage to character. It that will serve you well, too, considering your honorable ambitions, assuming they’ve not changed."

I speak, of course, of revenge, for the pale daughter of a pale woman, slain for no discernable reason, a dark grin tilting across my face at the mention of the sacred rite of blood for blood. While my memories of Arah’s twins are distant, and blurred, I do remember them; they were kind, innocent, and beautiful. That one of them was now dead was something that I don’t think I’ve ever truly thought about, other than that the memory now reveals only one filly clearly, the other darkened by burgundy. I don’t know about his other, additional marks, not having met with him enough in the passing year to know much of anything about him, but that he is my best friend, the General.

"Thanks," I say, awkwardly, not really sure how to feel about how I feel about my deer, which is very deeply, with much love, and an equal amount of frustration. It’s not really his fault. I’m just not really very sensible, or nice. He doesn’t agree with a lot of my decisions, as a result, but he’s also teaching me a lot about what it means to really care about someone. All the while, when I’d skirted around Erebos, afraid that he’d be mad at me, too, Duir had insisted I was being foolish. He still feels that way, evidently, glumly bobbing his head yes to the blue General’s question.

"Hey, no one said you two were perfect either," I remark, grumpily looking out into the trees, while Duir laughs.