“I want for ruin or glory, and none in between.”
I care not how Ithilwe looked upon me when I uttered those words. I cared even less the expression Cedmon held, as if he were surprised by the anger in my tone. I was not surprised. It is as Cuvallorn said; I am a wasteful fire, burning, choking myself out of the very air I need to breathe and wreak ruin.
So be it.
He can look upon me as scornfully as he wishes. It will not change my mind. It will not change my plans. I seek him out tomorrow to fulfill the oath my sister could not. I am a warrior, first and foremost. I will march for ruin, and for what withered remains of love still tighten their grasp around my heart.
Ithilwe does not have to stand and watch me do so.
