Dawn of the Iconoclast: A Lack of Regrets

Traian adjusted his grip on his still-sheathed sword, closed his eyes and took a slow breath. The Magnuroc had told him they would ask much of him and had told him he did not, could not understand what joining their ranks of the protectors would truly mean. And how could he? Two days before that fateful audience he had not even known the Magnuroc existed.

He hunted and killed Jair. Jair, whom he had trusted with his life and who had recommended him to the Magnuroc. But Jair had strayed and betrayed. It had to be done. Doing it had earned him the last part of the spiderweb tattoo and bound him tightly to the Magnuroc.

He recalled too vividly Jair’s lack of surprise. He had smiled as he explained he’d known the Magnuroc would send Traian to deal with him. As Jair had finished he’d tried to kill him. As Traian had sheathed his sword in Jair’s body and his blood had flowed over Traian’s hand and the swords pommel, he’d said again, “I knew they’d send you, brother.”

Ahead, the forest and another hunt waited.

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