Chiron frowned at Harris. "You speak untruths. Amal, she does not shirk her duty! Driven, she is, yes!" He glanced at the drink that was set down for him, nearly striking the moogle where it continued to flail on the countertop. "I think it more likely you are who insisted on the drink, Harris. It was you who told me what he must do! But now you rather drink than duty?" He turned his head and spat on the ground between their stools. "There is time for drink, and time for duty. This, today, was duty." He couldn't explain why he felt so upset all of a sudden, until he began to realize the truth.<br/><br/>He hadn't believed Ethan's assertion that Harris couldn't be bothered to do her part. That she had been flippant and dismissive with him. But seeing it for himself had rendered it undeniable. The blitzer was here, drinking, cracking jokes with Amal while he had helped Ethan--literally carried him halfway back to town, even! The warrior gripped his sword tight. "You are not fit to be Guardian," he said softly, but certainly. "You have no<i>thárros</i>for this task. Why take mantle so eagerly if unwilling to wear it, eh?" He sniffed sharply and turned, marching back out of the bar without another word.<br/><br/>He briefly debated going to the inn, but the last thing he wanted to do was saddle Ethan with his actions--even though he suspected that, like it or not, he just had. Still, he couldn't quell the outrage he felt. Duty was the only thing in Chiron's life that truly had meaning; duty to the sword, duty to his sworn charge, duty to uphold peace as a myrmidon. He had thought he knew Harris well, but one night of drinking and swapping stories hardly constituted any sort of real relationship. He couldn't rest, and he didn't want to drink... so instead he walked, marching down past the still-busy markets and onward to the darker parts of the village where the fishing boats were moored.<br/><br/>He found a dock that was almost entirely empty in the gloom and stripped, removing belt and tunic and underclothes and tucking them all in a neat pile with his sandals next to a coil of rope. Then he dove into the water, naked and swift, slipping beneath the waves with hardly a splash. He surfaced with a small gasp and began to swim properly, kicking and fanning his arms as he swam out into the inky black sea. He didn't go too far, just far enough that he could feel alone, at which point he leaned and let himself float on his back, staring up at the sky as it grew darker and the stars emerged from their daytime cover. He let himself drift and think, gazing up at the stars, the water around his ears drowning out the rest of the world for a little while.