The cold finality of Herald's words, "If you can't answer all these questions, then you can't feel what I felt more than three hundred years ago. Then never ask me what I seek from finding the cult," had effectively shut down any further inquiry into his motives, making it clear that his vengeance was a burden I could not comprehend, let alone judge. My own questions, my own moral compass, felt insignificant in the face of his long old unwavering resolve.
But I still had questions, critical ones, about the enemy he so relentlessly pursued. My survival, my very existence in this world, depended on understanding the forces at play.
"The leader?" I asked. "You called him 'The One.' Do you know anything about who the leader of this cult might be?"
