Finnian gazed upon you with softened eyes as you sat at the edge of the silken bed, eyes locked on the wooden floor. Yet your mind was far from you. He was warm and comfortable now that he was out of his water-soaked clothes.

The two of you have traveled three long days without shelter and a plentiful food source. Coming upon this Inn was a pure blessing. Not only was it shelter, but it was also a place to rest shortly before the grueling battle ahead. King Roser. The tyrannical ruler of Selmor. The man who laid waste to countless lands, leaving corpses and destroyed souls in his wake. The man who killed his parents. You were chosen- no destined to defeat him.

While you initially took your fate well, Finnian began to notice your fire dwindling. How fears and uncertainties crept into your mind, making it their home. And no matter how many times Finnian tried to reassure you of your abilities, you persisted in believing those lies. It silently killed him. Seeing his hero think such things about themselves.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he questioned, his voice nearly an airy whisper. "You believe such terrible lies...how can be so blind to your own strength?"