"Not everyone else could have chosen otherwise, though," truthfully, he doesn't fully know that. He knows what he's been told about how the 14th member of the Convocation had behaved, but all that is is history, devoid of internal context. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know what he trusts about what he does know. Not for the first time, he wishes he could have asked Emet-Selch more questions, that there had been more time, even if it just would have ended the same.
And there's another matter, too...
"Elidibus said something about being a hundred different heroes, about inspiring people to rise up and fight at various points, to maintain some kind of a balance. I... honestly, I don't understand any of that-- why it would have been necessary, how that wouldn't have put him at odds with the others. But I..." he stares down at the stone in his hand. "I think I've been retracing my own footsteps from the beginning." He traces the edge of it and thinks about the Job Stone in his pocket, smooth and white, how he would fidget with it when he was worried, the other fingers that might have held it.
"I'll make my own fate, I always have. It's not that." He's not sure he's making sense, but he feels like he has to at least try to get some of what's in his head out of it, "But there's a weight to it. Knowing."
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"Not everyone else could have chosen otherwise, though," truthfully, he doesn't fully know that. He knows what he's been told about how the 14th member of the Convocation had behaved, but all that is is history, devoid of internal context. He doesn't know why. He doesn't know what he trusts about what he does know. Not for the first time, he wishes he could have asked Emet-Selch more questions, that there had been more time, even if it just would have ended the same.
And there's another matter, too...
"Elidibus said something about being a hundred different heroes, about inspiring people to rise up and fight at various points, to maintain some kind of a balance. I... honestly, I don't understand any of that-- why it would have been necessary, how that wouldn't have put him at odds with the others. But I..." he stares down at the stone in his hand. "I think I've been retracing my own footsteps from the beginning." He traces the edge of it and thinks about the Job Stone in his pocket, smooth and white, how he would fidget with it when he was worried, the other fingers that might have held it.
"I'll make my own fate, I always have. It's not that." He's not sure he's making sense, but he feels like he has to at least try to get some of what's in his head out of it, "But there's a weight to it. Knowing."