<div class="floatright">(http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/2125/duskq.jpg)</div><br/>Promise looked back at the mortal guards and their current state.  In all likelihood, they wouldn't be able to handle the demons, but would at least be able to manage some sort of alarm in the event of another battle.<br/><br/>They didn't seem to be watching her with the fear that had once so strongly held every face, the tightening grip of weapons that would point at her, with a few even futilely attempting to strike her down.<strong>Why don't you destroy them as well?  Would it not bring you untold joy and purpose to scythe through them as easily as the minor demons?</strong>Maybe it would, she couldn't really be sure, but it didn't seem as pleasurable to destroy an enemy so inept at fighting back.<br/><br/><strong>That's not really why, is it?</strong>She still felt something, some echo of her living side that didn't want to see everyone dead and everything destroyed.  They hated it; she felt their disgust at her, but she never stopped feeling their hatred.  It would take love to motivate her towards any action beyond wanton brutality at a worthy foe, and love wasn't something she could understand.<br/><br/>She set down the bowl upon the ground, about a third of the rice left in it if she wanted to come back to it.  Although she gave no words, her eyes showed placid consent to follow along with them, even as the blood from her caste mark trickled its way down her pretty face.