poverizer

He reached into his inner self, feeling his energy circulating through his system, and began upping the intensity. By increasing one’s energy flow like this, a magic user could gather their strength for a spell quicker and easier. The problem was that doing it wasted energy and resulted in fatigue. Before a race, a sprinter might hop up and down or jog in place to get their blood flowing faster, allowing them to reach their peak earlier, but if they did it too much, they might find themselves out of breath when they needed it.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

If you want punishment for you and Cyrilo, tell me this, what will it accomplish? What’s done is done. The dead are already in the ground, and no amount of flagellation will bring them back. Whether you receive punishment or not, nothing changes. None of it matters. It’s all pointless. If you were a violent criminal, unrepentant, or even pleased with the carnage Bella wrought, then for the objective sake of society, I would say you should be locked away or executed. However, that isn’t you. I see your guilt and pain, so it’s not like there is any grand lesson for you to learn by being punished. If you think sitting in the dungeon will make you feel better, relieve you of your guilt, and bless you with a clean conscience, then the punishment is for your sake, not anyone else’s.”