As he tightly gripped the saber in one hand, Draigo stared down at the burnt form of the Marquis de Howlite once more.
'I...have a choice?,' Draigo repeated to himself as switched his gaze over to the saber in hand. Hesitation seemed to grip at Draigo's soul in this moment, a sensible feeling given that he had never actually had embraced the opportunity to kill someone up until this moment.
________________________________________________
Some time after Wyvara had died, Draigo went into a depression spiral of sorts.
He had attempted his best to maintain his promise with Wyvara, becoming a musician in his own way and by his own merits, but the pain in his heart was too much to bear.
As a result, he attempted to fill that void with lust, violence, gluttony and greed before essentially settling on booze.
