One Morning Before Mourning [Aurelio]

[Emrik]

24th Day of Ash, Year 121

"What is there for me in this wintry barren; this decaying place?" Anna-Anora would say, extending her hands and availing herself towards the prow of that battleship, lips parted and prepared to sing, dress flowing freely in the wind, and--

"Ugh," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "Stupid-fuckin'-flowery-bullshit-writers, goddamn." Emrik huffed, closing the book. It was titled: Ashlands On The Prairie by Jane T. Moore, some Gelerian noblewoman on an opium drip; popular with all of the higher-classmen, though not particularly the Kathar's cup of tea. He preferred Ruin: III by Gregory Hosswick. That was a good one. The combat scenes were gratuitous, but realistic. Written by a man who knew war, either by his own blade or through research in the field.

Before any contract, Emrik would do just this. Sitting upright in his bedroll, his supplies and rations gathered around him, he would read. A story of love, a story of war. A story of life. He liked to think of his contracts as members of complex stories, his blade their swan song. This target he was hunting now... a story indeed. A man named Lucien Hawthorne, former Imperial. Soldier, spy, renegade -- just like himself. Emrik believed he knew why they had put him on this contract. It was to remind him that if he were to go rogue, he would have a similar fate in store. He was one of the best, but there was always an assassin better than him.

He hummed a song. The same one he always used to calm his mind; just a melody, a shanty of sorts from his time in the barracks. It was about freedom from life; as if implying a goodness to their deeds, in murder and war alike. They freed men from magic, from sin, from imperfections. From the entropy of their world.

Rising from the cushions, the man quickly slipped on one of his simple pairs of clothing, shirt first, then pants, drawing and lacing up his boots. He didn't need a weapon; just a pocket filled with some rations -- just in case. He'd leave the rest of his stuff - his camp - here, considering how remote it was.

After a long trek, the man made his way to the road. He wasn't far from the Warrens. He would just need to get in there, call upon his Pact Weapons, slay Lucien, and then portal out. It wouldn't be that hard. He knew the old Kathar's capabilities; Emrik was stronger, younger, sharper. The other man had faced blunt-trauma to the head long ago, and hadn't been the man that he was. Perhaps before, he would have had something to fear, but... not now.

He kept his gaze sharp. There were no enemies. No one at his fourth, fifth, sixth...

Just solitude. Standing out on the open road, the Ashen sun glaring down at him. It was still warm; the skies were still clear, only a small diffusion of drifting clouds. It was a beautiful day to die, for a story to end. Lucien Hawthorne would, perhaps in the afterlife if not now, indeed be proud.

[Aurelio]

24th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Ataman and Emrik | Theme: Adventuring as Usual. | Thoughts: Do slayers employ airheads? | Mood: Unsettled.

---

۞ “Be cautious,” Ataman said as his eye colour changed in regards to his mood. The Lysanrin had always been a distaste to Aurelio, not because he was a Lysanrin, but the egotistical behaviour he displays. However, those two words shook in Aurelio’s core, followed by the sudden cacophony of the caverns. He stopped and stared “Shh… Do you hear that?” The wails ahead of the cavern could be heard from a mile away. They howled and screamed; as if they all imitated their final moments as they lament in the distance.

“Ataman, what are you doing?” Aurelio questioned as Ataman decided to push on further into the cavernous structure without saying a word; tension had always been high between the two slayers, despite only working together once. Perhaps the ego of a monster hunter gets the better of people once they start expanding their trade. The world was rich, full of surprises and yet some people weren’t humbled to learn their secrets.

However, Kalzasi citizens were in need of answers. The sounds underneath were causing grief to fellow denizens of Kalzasi; insomnia and fear were the main factors of this investigation; people claimed they could hear the sounds of terrorising groans underneath the city floor. It was not common for threats to enter Kalzasi through the Warrens, but it was easily eradicated through the way of life that they adopted.

Of course, the ways of the Orkhan monks were not always the answer; despite living in honor and the ways the great houses teach people. To be strong and courageous meant that there was always one drive. Fear. Without fear, there was no hope of surviving. Even the most stalwart of warriors feel it, but they do not heed the call to be consumed by it. They deal with it accordingly and use it as a survival instinct. That moment, fear had already settled in. The tenebrous haze obscured the cavern, leaving Ataman and Aurelio in pure darkness.

The sense of danger was already upon them as Aurelio thought he saw a shadow pass by at the corner of his eye. He was vigilant; knowing that dark forces often pervade in the shadowy corners of the world. It was soon met that Ataman and Aurelio were back to back; cornered like mice as the wailing got louder, in a language which Aurelio could not understand, although he recognised it. Mythrasi. He remembered certain words and phrases from his childhood as it was common amongst Hytori citizens.

Trouble brewed further as Ataman felt a hand against his throat, before being lifted. Aurelio looked behind him and saw the monstrous figure of death himself. He watched as he lifted Ataman with great ease and siphoned his essence, before throwing his body on the floor; like litter in the Low City of Kalzasi. Aurelio’s eyes widened as the wraith in front of him was capable of so many other monstrosities, not to mention his size was menacing.

Aurelio could either do two things, fight in hopes that he’d be able to subdue it or run. He didn’t really have much of an option as he unfurled his wings and ran away. The chase was on as hordes would follow after “Ataman…” He said with annoyance in his voice. The mourning would have to wait as Aurelio focused on escaping. He flew at high velocity, dodging stalagmites and other cavern structures.

The light at the end of the tunnel seemed further away than usual, but it was the key. He pressed with determination in his wings as he suddenly flew out “Woohoo!” He shouted with excitement as he appeared to be out of the cave systems once more. As he looked behind, seeing the Warrens’ entrance fade into the distance.

However, the clumsy Avialae did not look where he was going and eventually flew into a woodland infested area. The snapping and rustling of branches could be heard, followed by a loud thud on the floor as Aurelio landed at the footsteps of what seemed to be another travelling Avialae. It was uncommon to see an Avialae on foot, unless he had a problem with his wings from birth. He struggled to get up as it appeared he was tangled in a mixture of vines and branches as he tried to unfurl his gold speckled wings.

He looked awkwardly at the Avialae in front of him as he brushed and tore away at the vines entangled in his wings, before finally flashing his wings like a peacock revealing it's colours "Don't ask, because today has been a fucking long day" He interjected as he continued to brush himself off. ۞

[Emrik]

"Wintry pale... careen... frankincense... powder."

He muttered those words beneath his breath, cycling through adjectives, nouns and other descriptors and modifiers as he walked down the cobbled section of road. Life as an assassin, particularly in foreign, hostile lands, was lonely; he often needed to keep himself company, speaking within his own mind, some of those words escaping verbally. Sometimes he left animals keep him company. He was a strange man like that; he would feed a deer, observe birds. He wondered if the Synnekar felt some affinity for them, but then, he had never liked bats.

"Thymine... coriander... monotone."

Suddenly, his eyes shot up to what looked like a great bird's descent; the avian creature plummeted before him, until safely landing on its feet. Emrik immediately got into a battle-ready stance, furrowing his brows, only to soften his gaze as he peered towards the other. Gold-speckled wings, caught in vines. He examined him closely, wanting to see if he fit the description of Lucien. No--Lucien was blonde, he had greyish-brown wings, and was broader, beginning to wrinkle. This man was all but the opposite of his description. But - he was an Avialae who had come from the Warrens. That meant that he was, potentially, a source of information... if the man played him right.

Today has been a long fucking day.

He narrowed his stare. He'd always found it strange how emotive and verbal the Synnekar were. At home, seeing an Avialae meant facing their quiet judgment. They were always sizing one another up; always seeking out imperfections. Rarely did their communication lend to much other than whatever assignment they were on. Yet here, seeing his 'brethren' from across the continent, he was met with jubilance, words, questions about his identity, his hobbies, the things he liked and the man he wanted to be.

There was so much to it all.

"I won't ask," he merely returned, pressing his lips flatly together. He didn't seem all too interested by the other man, though he did size him up all the same. He was decently-sized, lean and athletic, well sculpted from what he could tell through his attire. Ginger hair, tan-ish skin. His features... they spoke 'Hytori' to him from experience, but mixed with what he could only imagine to be human blood, as that was typically the baseline for most Avialae.

He did not know, but he knew the other man would expect something more than that. "Erm... did you need help?" he questioned, pulling in his own wings as he stepped forward. The other man was undeniably handsome. Something about Synnekar vibrance and openness did appeal to him, but fraternizing with the enemy - or at least the people the Imperium wanted to be his enemy - was never wise.

"I'm Emrik," he introduced himself. "What brings you all the way out here... friend?"

[Aurelio]

Time Stamp
Company: Emrik and Aurelio | Theme: Introductions | Thoughts: He looks dangerous... | Mood: Nervous

---

۞ His eyes flicked towards the Avialae curiously. He was different to his Synnekar brethren; mammalian wings made him stand out to him as he had not seen anything like it. He had never learnt about the world from his races’ historical point of view; only from a societal perspective. However, he did not let his imposing figure intimidate him as he noticed the way he behaved, as if he was trying to size him up; assigning him to a pecking order of some kind.

“Should’ve looked in the direction I was flying… Those wraiths.”

He panted for a moment as he composed himself from the stressful situation he was in; ready to interact with the other man again as he finished brushing himself off “Forgive me, for such a grand entrance, although I advise you if you do approach the Warrens, remain cautious” He warned him, trying to size him up but it was no use, he was shorter than him. It was not common for Synnekar to size up, but mostly they did it as a sign of respect, encouragement and a sense of endearment.

However, he couldn't help but feel intimidated by the dark winged Avialae at first; the sense of the foreign could be smelt on him for miles. He smelt differently to his other brethren as the musk of sweat and blood clinged to him. There was a demonic presence about him that made him nervous; maybe it was the wings or the tall, dark handsome figure that stood over him. As he introduced himself, Aurelio cleared his throat and nodded to him “An honor to have your acquaintance here, Emrik…” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck “I’m Aurelio…” He said coyly as looked back and forth, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He questioned with heavy scepticism. ۞

[Emrik]

There were a few things he noticed immediately about the other man, within moments of his lip's parting; perhaps earlier. To begin with, he was clearly intimidated by him, though this fear appeared to be influenced by external factors as well; he was shaken up, to some degree perturbed, and that made him vulnerable to a more provoked form of intimidation. Emrik was no stranger to strong-arming in order to get what he wanted. In fact, it was the key to his modus operandi; always would he do whatever he could -- whatever he needed to -- in order to get his way.

"Wraiths..." he muttered beneath his breath. The man had heard a thing or two of them, though not much. He wasn't particularly concerned; compared to the sorts of enemies he'd faced in his time as an Imperial Justicar, he couldn't imagine any subterranean foe too terrifying. Perhaps that was arrogance of his; needlessly underestimating the dangers he faced. Even this very mission was a dangerous one. He wasn't only fighting Lucien, but Lucien in the warrens, surrounded by other foes. If he survived the battle beaten and bloodied, he would be ripe for those less obvious forces to pick off.

More and more, his thoughts clicked into place. He needed security. He needed more information.

Remain cautious, the other man advised. It was a reasonable suggestion, based on his internal musings. Still -- strangely unnecessary to him. Synnekar tended to act that way towards him, offering the man a sort of deference he was unaccustomed to. They were all very... nice. It was another aspect of them he could not fully grasp. What good was kindness in an enemy...? It only made him question. Was it right to kill a man who was kind to you? The Empire would reverberate upon that thought, bearing down on his mind. Their chastising of his vices was always within his thoughts. They would tell him yes -- that kindness was a vice of the enemy, their guard fallen, weak and ripe for the blade.

He didn't know that he felt that way any longer, though. Not after his father.

An honor to meet you. He got even nicer. It was almost sickening... but also, fairly tender, in an alien way. The Kathar seemed to freeze up for a moment, clearing his throat and extending a hand to shake. He eyed Aurelio's arms, hands, searching for less obvious things; cuts, scars, bruises. Ways to determine whether or not he was a warrior. In truth, he appeared rather inexperienced. Gods, he was even being somewhat coy.

"A pleasure to meet you, Aurelio," he said in a soft, low voice, nodding towards the other. Their eyes met for a moment, and the Kathar's gaze lingered there; he didn't look away. "I am not from here. I am from Atinaw," he said. It was half-parts true, half-parts a lie. He had spent half of his life there, but not since he was a boy. It was better, though, to spare the man the very lethal truth. That, he saved for his mark's dying gasps.

"I... assume you just returned from the Warrens?" he questioned. The man thought on whether or not he could be... 'nice'. Whether or not he would even know what gestures to make. Where did one even begin? "You're not hurt, are you? I have a camp, near by. There are supplies, bandages there. Food."

[Aurelio]

24th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Emrik | Theme: Investigation | Thoughts: A stranger offering help? | Mood: Cautious

---

۞ The unknown was a fearful concept, particularly within the realms of society. It was normal for a young Avialae to be scared of someone whom he had just met, particularly if there was some form of esotericism that lingered from the other male; like he had a lot of knowledge. However, there was also a sense of arrogance, something which the Synnekar tended to avoid; being humble was a virtue. To be arrogant was to be foolish; to be avaricious was to be irresponsible and unwise.

“Yes, wraiths… Weapons don’t do much to them, only magic has adverse effects on them” He said looking at the other male as he judged him heavily. He might have been well suited up as a warrior to him, but there were more forsaken creatures inside those desolate caverns. However, Aurelio knew that Kalsazi was built on top of the warrens for a reason; mining, treasury and ensuring magical study can continue on. He was one of the generations upcoming that still preserved that opportunity. However, the warrens was a dangerous place and even more dangerous with upcoming events.

The increase of wraith activity didn’t help the situation either. Dead Legion conscripts were being killed off faster than usual, resulting in the creation of more Gravebound within the caverns. Aurelio was weary from coming out of the Warrens, but something else played on his mind; witnessing the death of his colleague; it was an extremely powerful wraith that killed him, but he should have known better than to hang in the darkest corridors of the warrens.

The image replayed in his head, like pictography of a scrivening book. Right now, he needed all the help he could get as he sighed out towards the other man “You have a camp? Thank gods…” He gleefully interjected as he looked over at the other male “I’m not too hurt, but… I wouldn’t go down there just yet… Wraiths have a habit of swarming onto a living creature with ease… You might be overwhelmed by them” He stated in a concerned fashion. “I can spare you the details over at your camp, in exchange for food and supplies. I would greatly appreciate the help.” It was a fair bargain, information for a rite of passage to gain supplies and recuperate after a harsh battle within the walls of those crooked, barren caverns.

It was clear that he needed that extra help to survive, especially since it was traumatic for the younger male to witness the soul of a man being sucked from the body; most wraiths were callous and vengeful. Some believed they were scorned ghosts of the Dead Legion, but whilst there were so many myths and legends that the people of Kalzasi talk, there had been no evidence to suggest where they come from. It was simply unknown. ۞

[Emrik]

Aurelio was already providing him information, something he appreciated; that appreciation was even evident in his features, his gaze softening as his eyes focused on the other. No weapons... only magic. Perfect, he could only conclude. His weapons were magic. Forged by aether, made to cut through ephemeral and organic beings alike. He did not know much about these 'Wraiths', though, and understanding their weaknesses, patterns and behaviors was essential to the success of his mission. The other man could benefit him indeed -- and besides, as he'd determined earlier... he was nice. And he wasn't an enemy. That meant Emrik did not need to be conflicted about that kindness. It was a pleasantry at worst.

"I have a camp, yes," he repeated, eyeing the other with a stern gaze as if he were stupid. It was clear that he was not entirely good at being nice in return, though he exhaled as if to correct himself, softening his stare. "I cannot heal you, but I can provide a place of rest while your... stamina returns. Though I would not recommend returning; take the loss." And that way, he wouldn't have a man delving around in there to witness Lucien's murder. That was an unnecessary complication that he did not wish to encounter -- particularly considering he had just decided to have a pleasant dynamic with him. He did not want to have to silence him as an interloper.

Pulling his hands behind his back, the man sighed out through his nostrils, glancing around towards the shadowed shade of the trees above and around them, sunlight only occasionally peaking through. "Very well," the man nodded, gesturing for the other to follow, his hands freeing up as quickly as he bound them to his back. It wasn't a very long walk back to the camp; a few hundred meters with occasional bramble, most of which he had already cleared. When they arrived, he opened his arms as if to display the camp; it was meager. One large bedroll, a half-formed tent over it, a makeshift fire and some supplies scattered about in packages. He was glad they hadn't been stolen by foxes, or squirrels.

Pondering for a moment, he decided he - too - would try his best at being friendly. It wasn't his first instinct... but it was a skill worth developing. If openness was the norm in Kalzasi, he would need to learn it, were he ever to become close enough to the heart of Novalys; the ultimate contract to solidify his glory.

"Take whatever you like," he offered, with a warm, if somewhat awkward smile. "We have... bread. Crackers. Rabbit meat. Stew. And a waterskin... it's mine, but I'll let you borrow it. We can fill it in the pond nearby, after." Looking up, he attempted to glean the time, seeking out the position of the sun. It was likely... eleven o'clock, something like that. There were hours left, yet.

"So--what brings you to the Warrens, and their path? You don't seem... particularly soldierly," Emrik quietly expressed, eyeing him up and down. He was handsome, but not in the typical gruff, over-built way. He seemed more an athlete than a soldier. "I... hope that does not bring offense," he corrected himself. "It is not meant as such."

[Aurelio]

24th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Emrik | Theme: Investigation | Thoughts: Patronising me... He's gonna get punched... | Mood: Annoyed

---

۞ He wondered if providing him with information was the wrong idea. It depends what he could’ve been using this information for; that wasn’t the thing though. However, the way he stared at him with his stern gaze, caught him off guard slightly, before he studied him further; glaring at him for a moment. To his annoyance it seemed the other man was patronising him not to mention his stoic and unsympathetic nature was brought out, although Aurelio did not question it. Perhaps he didn’t mean to come across as patronising.

Aurelio followed the male into the camp, noticing his mannerisms were military in nature. It made Aurelio sceptical for a moment as he studied him further; words were like blankets of lies that one person could speak as he tilts his head over at him. However, there was one thing he admired. His stoicism; the ability not to let emotions get to you, particularly if times were heavy. Aurelio would often be bested by his emotions; even if it involved the fabric of vices and virtues in the world, but there were other pressing concerns. Emrik. What was his true intentions? Was he really who he said he was? He nodded at Emrik and inspected him further, admiring the physique he had; he envied it as he looked at his own body compared to his. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him at the moment, maybe because of the sense of danger that came from him; amongst other things.

As soon as they were at camp, Aurelio sat down for a moment as he looked around. It wasn’t much he was offering. The leftover stew appeared to be still warm, followed by the rabbit meat which had still been cooking on the spitroast. The crackers and bread which appeared to have gone slightly stale, mostly because of the exposure to the elements. He smiled and nodded “Thanks…” He nodded to the larger man as he began to ask him questions. For a moment, Aurelio glared at him “I may not be soldierly, but I’m perfectly capable of handling myself…” He said in an abrasive tone before he corrected himself “Sorry, forgive me… I don’t like to be patronised.” He exhaled through his nose as he continued his story.

“I was investigating the warrens after large reports of Kalzasi citizens were experiencing sleepless nights. They sent me from Slayer’s Keep and another from the Sky Guard to investigate further, although… One of them was incompetent and decided to lead us into a darker area of the caverns.” He stopped for a moment; conveying his thoughts on the horrific events that went on in the warrens. “Do you know what happens to a man who exposes themselves to the darkness for longer than a millisecond, they subject themselves to wraiths that are even more dangerous types of wraiths.” He warned as he looked down at the campfire “They drain the life force out of a victim, that's exactly what happened to the colleague of mine, call me a coward for not going back but there's literally nothing I could do, I’m only versed in magic that protects people, not for pure destruction...”۞

[Emrik]

Soldierly... apparently, that was a sensitive spot for the Synnekar, who quickly snapped back at him. He hoped his disclaimers of 'I hope that does not bring offense' and 'I did not mean it as such' would shield him from any backlash, but, he was apparently mistaken. Emrik quickly realized that he was not very good at being nice. In fact... his attempt at being nice had agitated the man far more quickly than the typical, calloused nature with which he spoke. It was time for a second approach, he informed himself; an apologetic one.

"I am sorry," he curled his lips, frowning faintly. "Again, I did not mean you look weak; merely that you do not look... weathered by war. That is all. The handsomeness of youth and vigor, not the weariness of a lifetime on the line. Do you understand my meaning?" Flirtation, perhaps, would do it. It was the faintest touch, but it was something. People liked to be praised more than they enjoyed being castigated... patronized, as the other called it. Whatever the case, he tipped his head in apology, and listened to the other intently. He explained why he was there in detail; investigating the Warrens, reports of sleepless nights... it was odd that such a thing could be related to this place. Clearly arcane. In the Imperium, such disorder was not tolerated. He took note.

Additionally... he needed to keep light. If not, he might suffer the fate of this Aurelio's 'colleague'. A unique word to describe him. He wondered how quickly the draining process occurred; how fast it could come to completion. He wished he had a bestiary of sorts, filled with every detail. This contract was seeming more and more dangerous the longer he lingered on it.

A part of him wondered if he would be better off leaving Lucien to die there on his own.

"You are not a coward," he nodded. "It is wise to withdraw from a battle that is without cause. Arbitrarily throwing your life away over feelings of 'honor' is not wise; it is foolhardy. You did the right thing." He spoke with honesty, there; his own perspective. It was one of the lingering remnants of what his father had taught him... not to throw his life to the fire. Sometimes, to flee was to be brave.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your colleague," said Emrik, taking a seat upon his bedroll. He reached into a pouch that was lain on the floor, offering the other its contents; cheeses, with some dried meats. "You are not responsible for his death, and you did the right thing to leave. Now, you can provide greater information to the city than if you had perished."

Perhaps, he thought, he was doing the 'nice' thing correctly. Even if his tone felt terribly flat and monotone. He... needed to work on that.

"Aurelio..." he muttered his name. "I like your wings. They are very beautiful."

[Aurelio]

24th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Emrik | Theme: Investigation | Thoughts: Is it me, or is he flirting? | Mood: Flushed

---

۞ His demeanor changed; the man seemed apologetic and genuine. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he made eye contact with him for a moment. He was tense still as the events took a toll on him; the presence of wraiths within the warrens was greater than normal. To begin with he should have been prepared for this; he knew magic affected wraiths, he had come across them countless times, even during his warrens march. He found that out the hard way.

Yet, the compliments; He tried to keep himself humbled, with a degree of humility; the Kathar appeared to be working. It did not take him long to blush. It seemed the men he met had quite an affinity for doing so; first Aurin back at the High Hopes and now the strong embodiment of godly muscle, standing right in front of him. It was something Aurelio envied but at the same time admired; some of his Synnekar brethren also had figures of great muscularity. He nodded, lost for words for a moment as he looked down, sheathing his wings to make himself look smaller.

“I do understand; but I also understand that I must earn those battle scars…” He added.

He continued to listen intently to the other man as he offered him contents of food as he took the cheeses. He bit into them as he noticed the salty, yet sweet taste of the cheese as he rubbed the crumbs from his mouth. He didn’t notice there was a tiny fraction of cheese still on the side of his lip as he tilted his head at him; almost like a lost puppy. He listened intently as the male merited his efforts in the warrens “I had no choice, it was either that or simply succumb to the same fate as my colleague…” He said with a deep sigh “He was slightly arrogant; annoying as well…” He added bluntly as he stared at the other man.

“Arrogance eventually ends up in one’s hubris…”

He turned to the campfire as he looked over at the cave he came out of and sighed as he was about to speak, he heard his name uttered. He turned making eye contact for a brief period; until the other man complimented his wings. The coyness and nervous nature of Aurelio as he smiled, letting out some form of laughter. It was clear he didn’t know how to deal with situations of flirtation as he looked back at the other man “Hey… I’m sorry, I’m just…” He remained quiet. It was difficult for him to speak, especially when the other man advanced his flirting techniques on him; knowing he had won the contest, it left him speechless.

His wings tightened around him, as if he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was wondering what the other man’s next plans were.

“Are you… Going in there?” He asked with a hint of concern on his voice

“It’s probably too dangerous, the wraiths show mercy to fighters no matter how skilled you are, in fact recently they seem more agitated than usual.”

He added as he sighed, taking a more passive aggressive approach to the other man “Well, if you're going in there I won’t stop you, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” It was unusual for Aurelio to be strangely protective of a stranger. However, he did care about the wellbeing of his citizens, his peers. It was the sense of duty that kept him motivated in life; even to a pure stranger. He was naive, youthful, still new to the world and it’s dangers. ۞