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Summary
As you’d watched Lilith discover her son’s body you’d actually felt a twinge of pity for her and the pain of her loss. The sympathy had evaporated like mist on a summer morning when you’d seen her inflicting that same grief upon Donan, forced to watch it eat the Horadrim alive, all whilst remembering Yorin’s screams as Astaroth burnt him away from the inside. You’d seen the way that Donan had begged his son’s spirit for forgiveness in Hawezar, not to leave him again. Finally you suspected that the pillar of lost souls that had just mortally wounded him had taunted him with his son’s image to lure him into striking distance.
“One boy?”
It was a question and a dismissive sneer in one. You wondered whether she was deliberately trying to make you hate her, whether it would give her power to torture you further.
“Tell me Lilith. For all the pain you claim you feel over Rathma’s murder, why was your next action to kill Donan’s son, knowing how much it would hurt?”