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@j-a-penrose *scrambles in late* Here’s mine. This is supposed to be the first time the character realizes (or starts to allow himself to realize) that he has allowed all the destruction to happen because of his selfish decisions. It’s kind of the climax of his arc, or at least close to it. I think I need to expand it more, but what do you think?

And wow, the guild emblems are looking good! Are they permanent, or are we going to decide on what to change them to eventually?

Beptovin whipped around, spots of light flashing before his vision as he pinched his eyes shut. But it was too late. The scene had already been seared into his brain.

You could have helped them.

“No!” he snapped through a clenched beak. “My life, not theirs. They can’t make me a Keeper. It’s too late.”

He tried to ignore the blackened waste at the bottom of the cliff. He tried to pretend that the city below him was still whole and beautiful, glimmering in the sunlight. But he couldn’t. And it was his fault. Because of him, there were only ruins, ashes, and smoke. Smoke that drifted up to tear at his eyes, claw at his throat, and stab his heart.

You could have done something about this.

Bep glared at the sea through the ocean of tears in his eyes, wrapping his talons around a tuft of dying grass. “I don’t care!”

You could have stopped them.

“I…don’t…care!” He flung out a wing, as if he could push the voice away. He had to silence its taunting. He wouldn’t listen to it any more. It was only a lie. A lie!

Yes you do.

What?

You do care. You care about people. You loved people. But you left them.

Ekila. He had left her. Left her to save the people herself. She couldn’t do it without him. She had trusted him. Counted on him. And he let her down. He let the Keepers down. He let the world down.

He was a rotten hawk, if there ever was one.

But he didn’t care.

“I’m done!” he screeched, stretching out his wings and beating the grass beneath him flat. “Done, done, done!”

He flung himself over the cliff and let the wind carry him out to sea. Names of the people he had abandoned invaded his mind, whispering in his ears like a gust that rustles the trees before a thunderstorm.

He blanked out every name. He silenced the voices. He thought no words.

But the picture was still there.