There's something in him that can't seem to help sparking to the notion of absolution of guilt, with the badge from a killed ship weighing heavy in his pocket. In other circumstances, he might get angry.
But today, he only says,
"I have the right to decide what I have to carry and what I don't."
“No, Captain.” His hand rises, stiffened from the fingertips down in a stern show of disagreement. “You may believe it to be so. And perhaps fate, or the gods, favor you enough to make it so...for a time. But no man is free enough to choose his own burdens, for even the coward is ever hounded by them.”
Noah fon Ronsenburg did not choose the shadow of his homeland, he did not choose the ghosting touch of a mother he could not save, nor the brother he could not keep. All haunt, all torment— all are burdens he shoulders, regardless of his own innocence. His lack of agency at the time.
“Yet I shall speak no more of it. We have done good work, and there is no benefit to sullying the satisfaction of our accomplishments with conjecture.”
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no subject
But today, he only says,
"I have the right to decide what I have to carry and what I don't."
no subject
Noah fon Ronsenburg did not choose the shadow of his homeland, he did not choose the ghosting touch of a mother he could not save, nor the brother he could not keep. All haunt, all torment— all are burdens he shoulders, regardless of his own innocence. His lack of agency at the time.
“Yet I shall speak no more of it. We have done good work, and there is no benefit to sullying the satisfaction of our accomplishments with conjecture.”