I’ll strive, alright, Aren thought, addressing the Primus. I’m going to strive right out of this hell you put me in, and I’m taking my friend with me. Stop me if you can. It felt good to shake his fist in the face of a god. He’d always been afraid to before, scared that some misfortune would befall him if he questioned what he’d been taught. But misfortune had befallen him anyway. What good was piety, then, if it won you no favour?
