Morne felt a sense of confidence come over him as stopped the two Spells. Every day, he became closer and closer to seizing his own fate, of becoming his own master.
A voice drifted in from the cell next to his. "What do you think is next?"
"Another village," he replied to Essenla instantly.
"I know that," she snorted. "I mean… *sigh*. How many orphans are we going to make tomorrow? How many lives are we going to snuff out for these goblin monsters the day after that? When does it end?"
"When they're in the ground."
A silence fell over their cells at that.
"You don't feel anything about all of this, do you? To you, it's just a job, a chore."
"Why would I want to feel something?" Morne replied calmly. "So I can be as miserable as you?"
