He actually sneered at the mention of being a hero. "Then why do the dead and past still haunt me so? A hero... Nevermind, not important."<br/><br/>He sighed, before rolling his head back, loosening his shoulders, realizing he was going to be bringing a LOT of nastiness to the surface. "Lets start with one closer to the surface than the others. I have been most of the races, except for dragon, I think. They all start blurring together, when I try to force myself to examine them."<br/><br/>It would set the tone for the next for days, him talking, some times haltingly, the logical part of him realizing many of the mistakes were the result of being a mortal with an imperfect understanding of the situation. Other times, he had to get up and pace, others he sat with his back against one of the columns, a distance from Jashah. All of the stories were accompanied, unconsciously, with flashes from his own perspective, just glances, that rarely lasted longer than an instant. But the one he avoided, up until the end, was the very first life he could remember, the one where he made Barid, Verdelet and himself what they were today. But after the third day, he stopped talking, longer for this time, before sitting on the steps to the door leading in, as far from Jashah in the center as he could physically get.<br/><br/>Finally, he sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "You know, for all those failures, I, logically, understand they were failures any mortal would make, but that doesn't make hearing the screams any easier to bear, the shock of the survivors any less heart breaking, and survivors guilt any less soul crushing.<br/><br/>And I am stalling rather than talking about the first life, though I can't help but wonder if Barid should hear it too. He suffers from my hubris then just as much as I and Verdelet do. Though suffer and Verdelet are nearly mutually exclusive terms."