[Yesterday, Liem lived in a world that made sense. Yesterday he was a servant of a god he’d devoted his life to, a loyal citizen of his country, and an agent of its princess. He knew what was expected from him and he was content to spend his life striving toward those expectations—possibly even more than his life, should Abadar have plans for his afterlife as well. It was not an easy existence, nor a peaceful one, nor often a joyful one, but it made sense to him, and it was all he had. It was all he needed.
Now, he feels the heat of Matt’s anger roll over him on the heels of his hurt—more scorching now than it had been in the shrine, clutched as he is in the Kenoma’s grip. That word, selfish, worms black and oily into the scar left by old, buried fears, and threatens to crack it wide open. His breath stills, then tries to crawl up his throat. His clasped hands tighten so desperately that they begin to tremble.]
I can’t. I’m sorry.
[He forces the words out on a breathless whisper, one strained syllable at a time. Without moving hardly at all, he seems to shrink in on himself.]
no subject
Now, he feels the heat of Matt’s anger roll over him on the heels of his hurt—more scorching now than it had been in the shrine, clutched as he is in the Kenoma’s grip. That word, selfish, worms black and oily into the scar left by old, buried fears, and threatens to crack it wide open. His breath stills, then tries to crawl up his throat. His clasped hands tighten so desperately that they begin to tremble.]
I can’t. I’m sorry.
[He forces the words out on a breathless whisper, one strained syllable at a time. Without moving hardly at all, he seems to shrink in on himself.]
I’m sorry. I just… can’t. It’s beyond me.