Glaive was not one to believe in things that he couldn't see, hear, or touch. He didn't believe in ghosts, monsters of the night or any deity. His father had beaten all his belief from him. In his sixteen years he had never seen a single ghost and was convinced they didn't exist. What he had never seen could never hurt him. Why fear the invisible when all the hurt and pain in his life was caused by those around him? He had often asked his father about life and death. This had been ignored, either by silence or the back of his hand. He had told him over and over that all you can see in life is all there is.<br/>"Truth. What is truth? It is all relative. You can believe in whatever religious fantasies you want, but they will do you no good. A god has to be worth worshipping. Personally, I never found that any god could live up to all our expectations. We ask them to heal, and people die; we ask them to bring peace and all we get is suffering. They take all the pleasure out of life, and when we die, will we find paradise?" Glaive took in a sudden deep gasp of breath, throwing back his long white hair.