The Strength of Resolve - Part 1

He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth. The golden flecks of Ingolsol and the purple flecks of Claudia danced around in his irises. He hardened his heart. If this was the only option, then risk or not, he would have to make it work.

With that decision made, his resolve came frightfully easily. Such was the stubbornness of Oliver Patrick. On the most arbitrary of decisions, he could build a castle, and defend it to the death, until he was otherwise convinced that there was worth in abandoning it.

"Verdant," Oliver said, his voice regaining its earlier strength. He hadn't forgotten the deaths of his comrades, and he'd far from gotten over it, but now, as Oliver was, he had the strength to set such emotions aside until there was a time to properly deal with them.

"My Lord," Verdant said, kneeling before him. "You have orders for me?"