Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet lady, noble Queen, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. No words seemed to fit. So I said none, to anyone. Or at least I said as little as possible. I sat on the roof, and stared up to Heaven. Or I wandered, my eyes kept low. I went to the Bane Chosen camp at the Spirituality Shrine in Ilshenar and I slaughtered Virtuebane's vile minions by the dozens, until the ground was muddied with their blood. I fought on Magincia Island, against the Blackrock Golems. Virtuebane had done well to choose them to guard Magincia. Their power in such numbers was overwhelming. We could drop one at a time, but another large-scale Crusade seemed impossible. We would have to strike deeper into Virtuebane himself before we could dislodge him from Magincia. But whatever I did, my thoughts were the same. Over and over again. Thoughts so familiar to me, but that I had no real words for. He'd taken our lioness. I'd been here before, a long time ago, another young lady who I thought fought with my intensity, whom I Pridefully admired for it. It should have hurt less this time, though. Queen Dawn and I weren't close. I'd spoken at her coronation, fought at her side, fought on her behalf. When her support dwindled, when people unfairly turned against her, I'd stayed at her side. But I didn't really know her. I'd never even seen her husband until the night he murdered her. Queen Dawn and I weren't close, so her death should have hurt less. But it didn't. Virtuebane had robbed us of a precious resource; it didn't matter much to me that some people didn't realize how precious she was. Were it not for her, Blackthorn might be alive, the Shadowlords would have overtaken us, Casca might still be on the throne, the Juka might have razed Yew to the ground, and Virtuebane's minions would certainly have overtaken Britain when they merely meant to steal the Crystal of Duplicity. Her sheer presence had won that battle when so many wanted to give up. And, now, she was gone. Neither wife nor mistress could comfort me tonight, though I loved them both. So I wandered, and I had the same, wordless thoughts again and again. I was a man of action. And revenge was the next logical action to take. Some looked down on revenge, but not me. The problem with revenge was that people seemed to always expect it to fix something, which of course it never did. Revenge had to be its own goal, had to be an end in and of itself, or it would eat you alive. Revenge by itself had always been enough for me. It'd have to be this time too. If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you poison us, do we not die? If you wrong us, shall we not revenge? The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction. But revenge was later. Tonight there were only my wordless thoughts, the skies above me, and the earth below. Above the skies, I knew, Heaven was hung in black for the lioness of Britannia. And you'll know what it's like losing Heaven's light Heaven's hung in black.