"You can't share griefs, Ranger," Aeron mumbled, his eyes glued to the floor. "Nobody can share them, because you didn't know her. Nobody knew her. Many would say that she was better off dead, which is probably true, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," he rambled. "I want to say that this is all father's fault, for leaving us. If he hadn't left, I wouldn't have become a thief. If he hadn't left Gwyllion would have been happy. If father hadn't left we wouldn't be here right now because you wouldn't have caught me." Aeron stopped, a tear trembling on his eyelash.
Ravion said nothing.
"But no matter how hard I tell this to myself," Aeron continued in a tight voice, "I know that it is not the case. The wise men speak of Doom...I have heard of Doom. It is a dreadful thing that no one can escape. My father was doomed to leave, I was doomed to be a thief, it was my doom that I had to mess up and drag Gwyllion to her doom, but she could not escape death no matter how hard anybody tried because it was her doom to die..." his voice trailed off, and he buried his head on his knees and cried.
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