Jorn looked at his sister again and blurted out with a frown, "<em>I</em>don't want the artifact. Let him have it!"<br/><br/>He glanced at Vennar, and then at Piri, and down at the sword resting in his hand. His eyes dwelt there for a long moment. Something was nagging in the back of his mind, a terrifying dread that he was about to journey off to his certain death. But what other choice did he have? He knew he had to stay strong about it, for the sake of the others around him. Jorn only ever wanted to live his life by the simple principle that he would always do the right thing. Then he got out into the world, and it got harder and harder to know what the right thing was. He trusted his father's judgment often, but even Vennar had been wrong on occasion. He would have to go on that trust once more this time, but in the back of his mind, he kept on turning it over. Somehow, along the way, he would have to figure out what to do. Whatever that ended up being, the only thing he knew for sure was that it would involve keeping his sister alive. He resolved to make that his immediate focus, and finally looked up at Vennar with an eerie calm in his eyes - a confidence born of willful ignorance.<br/><br/>"Alright. I'm ready", he told his father.