Let it Go

The desire to follow the others was intense, it burned like a sun in Aaralons chest.

Yet something stayed him, something the Incubus had said. It had called the **** ‘petty’ despite knowing exactly what he, and assumedly, the others had gone through. He wanted to refute that, he wanted to shout that it was not petty to want **** on the one who had wronged him but then he had to ask himself. In light of everything that had happened to him, did that really matter any more?

His soul had been condemned to the service of a being that saw him only as a cheap toy and he had taken everyone around him down with him. What could the actions of one filthy old man really rate against such a horror?

“Well,” the Demon chimed in and Aaralon suddenly noticed that it had managed to find some clothing. A black and gold robe that somehow managed to still cling to its form in all the right places.

Aaralon was beyond question such things and the moment of white hot emotion had already passed. So, in silence, he followed the Demon towards the Main Hall.