The memory of that moment became his nightmare,
an echo that haunted him for the rest of his life.
It had been an abyssal winter night.
He had been a child, orphaned and homeless.
Cold and hungry...
If he didn't eat, he would've died.
And that loaf of bread had been so close...
That was the first time he'd hurt someone else
for his own survival.
The first, but not the last. The orphan child grew into a sellsword,
taking on tasks that no one else wanted, all to survive.
Every day was like a repeat of that first one,
breaking others so he himself would be less broken.
Come with me.
She appeared out of nowhere, that shining woman
with the brilliant armor.
As he took her hand, the man had no idea.
That everything would change,
because of her...
I can't tell you who I am, but I need your services.
I need you by my side for a little while
to protect me.
He agreed to her conditions.
A job was a job, after all.
But she was his opposite in every way.
He lived for himself, for his own survival.
She was ready to give up her life for her ideals.
That didn't sit well with him.
He'd leave as soon as the job was done,
he told himself.
He still had no idea.
Her warm smile, which was like sunshine...
Her unending kindness...
They were slowly seeping into him.
Until one moonlit night...
She had gone on a mission on her own
and returned severely injured.
It wasn't until that moment that the man realized
how much she meant to him.
I want to change. I want to be like her.
I love her...
I've been dreaming of this moment for a long time,
and I didn't even know.
The man tended to her wounds carefully.
He told her all of the things he had done.
How he had killed another for a loaf of bread...
The woman cried with him and held him.
It's okay... Everything is okay now...
Let it go. Choose who you want to be from now on.
It's not too late.
They held each other for a long time.
After that moment...
The man finally understood what happiness meant.
He wanted their days together to last forever.
Fate had other designs.
Traces of an intense fight.
Broken pieces of shining armor.
Just like that, she was gone.
An object caught the man's eye,
the object that had caused her death.
A human arrow, not Fomorian. And an expensive one.
He vowed to find out who had killed her, and why.
No matter how long it took.
That's who I choose to be.
And so, the man began his journey,
leaving behind the grave he had made.
Following where the arrow, his only clue, led him.