Blackheart

Farewell

It was no easy task the group found themselves burdened with, but each of them was driven in one way or another to see it through to the end.

Leianna and Lexius were both determined to stop the spread of corruption, bound by church duty and opposition to all evil.

Senci and Razorwing both seemed to thrive off of helping others. Razorwing had been performing such acts of heroism for years, while Senci dreamed of becoming such a hero, this quest his first step on that long journey.

Andric was slightly tougher to pin down. Of course like Leianna and Lexius demons and death were his opponents, but Alexander suspected he had rushed here because he was worried about Senci who was, in a way, family to him.

Charles was just a quiet magician whose motives remained unknown. He didn't seem driven by fame or honor or any of that...yet he stayed with them. Perhaps he was just doing this because it needed to be done, and he had valuable skills no one else on the team had. He was needed, so he answered the call.

Tourthun wanted to become some sort of guardian to the survivors, and mankind at large. Was it grief or guilt at seeing so many die? Was it his desire to be able to strike out against evil, after being forced to stand by and suffer from it all his life? Alexander wasn't sure, but his drive appeared relentless.

He couldn't say why Paul was here. He seemed like the type who lived a life of danger, so this was just another mission to see through for him? While his silence and lack of reasons for why he was with the trouble might have drawn suspicion, he HAD saved Alexander and Senci's lives. There was little room for doubt after that affair.

The knight thought to himself as he clung to Tourthun, who soared in through the air. This group was nothing like any he had ever served with...although that wasn't a bad thing. Far from it. It was bizarre, unconventional, full of people whose entire species unnerved Alexander...yet he felt a bond with each of them.

He remembered how disgusted he was when he learned of Charles. A member of the lowly, wicked and cruel half-dragons, the monsters who were as sociopathic as they were cunning...yet once he met the man, it became clear he wasn't like that at all.

He acted like a shy, insecure boy at times. He would snap and then profusely apologize. There was a spark in his eyes whenever the topic of magic was brought up. He read like a madman, tearing into hefty tomes with glee.

He was just like any other person...aside from the scales. And claws. And wings. And just about everything else.

But that was the point. His appearance was frightening, but his spirit was so...familiar. Like he wasn't part dragon at all.

Maybe, Alexander thought, this is the silver lining of this tragedy. To learn from the 'beasts', to understand them fully and grasp the complexity of life.

He'd told himself the same thing before, but convincing himself of something so vehemently opposed to his old view of the world was still challenging. Once, he'd thought that beastmen were overwhelmingly cruel or barbaric. True, there were a few good ones, but they were the exception.

No longer could he tell himself such things.

He looked down, and gazed at the dragon currently soaring above the city.

To think even these beasts of legend are so much like us...

He shook his head. He'd pondered such things long enough. These people were his teammates, his comrades in arms and fellow warriors, all standing united against the plague that was demonkind.