"While you sang songs, I rode into death. And at the end, when I stood victorious, when I had taken the head of that lich, all around me were corpses."
His voice became softer, weakened by pain.
"I couldn't see victory because in that sea of corpses lay my brothers, and in that moment all I felt… was pain. You all stand before me, giving lectures. You did not feel what I felt… You do not! Not! YOU DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING!"
The hall shook.
"Never sing praises of my past, never utter a word before me. I might be weaker now, but even a Banshee Queen can be my creation. I once rode with the living, now the dead cling to me."
He went back to his throne.
"Leave me to my misery. I want to drown eternally… in it."
Dirge took a step back. She knew what he used to be like. They had met several times at the sanctuary. That gallant commander of the Black Night Cavalry, oath-bound to the White Winged Cavalry, had turned into this.
