Kyrian sat for a while on the edge of the bed, staring at the cold stone floor.
He had already decided his next moves, but still, doubt hovered around him.
He took a deep breath, resting his elbow on his knee and looking at the mark on his hand.
The memory of the slight burning returned insistently. Kyrian was thinking about whether he should try to sever that connection. He felt he could, but at the same time the curiosity about the mark did not let him do so.
"Should I leave the sect again so soon…?"
He had just returned. He had barely rested and already thought of leaving the sect again. For some reason, since always, something prevented him from staying still.
He was always searching for something, and that something now was strength. There was no way to stay still.
"Finding another black mass of hostility now is not possible. I have no way of knowing where they will appear or how to track them."
