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I trusted you.
It should not have come to this.
Once, you would not have wanted it. You were companions, and something more. You were united by a loyalty stronger than that between two warriors, and no one could have taken his place at your side. The thought that he was still alive could have brought you nothing but relief, even after his adultery had come to light.
So why did he betray you?
The words with which he tried to appease you do not matter. They will not be enough to bring your brothers back. No one deserves your forgiveness for this, not even him.
You tried until the end to save his life, despite his crimes. Even though he had trampled on his vows and stained the purity with which he had bound your heart. You prayed that he would return to you one day, once your uncle's mercy allowed him to.
He came back, and he took away what was most precious to you.
You could have tolerated what happened to Agravain. He shouldn't have died. But he made a cowardly and unworthy assault, and it paid off. You could have accepted his end, perhaps.
But not what happened next. Gaheris did not attack him. Gareth did not even defend himself.
The man you loved, who you called friend and brother for so long, could never have killed innocents. He would never have condemned you to be burned by this fire of wrath and torment.
But now he is no longer the same as before, and there is nothing left to stop you from repaying him for his betrayal. Even if his face is that of the one you admired most, even if his voice begs you to desist, you will not stop.
To give up would force your brothers to remain unavenged – and you would keep hearing their cries, and drowning in their blood.
The blood he shed is the same that flows in your veins. You could not ignore it even if you wanted to. The same blood placed you in your uncle's service, and drove your blade into Lamorak's body.
Another revenge will be no different.
You just wish he had not been the one to do this to you. If it had been anyone else who destroyed your family, madness would not have devoured you in the same way.
But you have already had to see death freeze too many familiar faces. At least, when the same happens to him, knowing that you have punished the one who tore your family and your soul apart will fill the abyss that have opened up inside you.
Maybe. Hope is all that keeps you alive.
It is too late to repent. It is too late to forgive. If this war marks the end of all honor and loyalty, you no longer have any reason not to drag the cause of your downfall with you.
You will not stop. Not until you feel his last breath brush against your face, the heat of his bleeding body against yours. Not until you feel your own heart tearing and yielding.
You will wash your wounds with his blood. Perhaps you will stop burning before you die.