Spurious Confessions of a Discontented Heart

WATCHER He knew it. The Rift had a sick sense of humor. It took great pleasure in torturing any who asked it for help. Not only did it now pester him, quite literally with the ghost that haunted him now, but it was going to attempt to emotionally scar him. Jokes on you Rift, he was already scarred. But that didn't mean he was going to walk up to someone and confess his love to them. Not only was ne not the type, it was wrong. One shouldn't try and convince another that they loved them on a dare. It was cruel and dishonorable. Love was not something to throw around. Nor were words. If he said something, he meant it. He wouldn't confess a love he did not feel. He'd much rather cut his own tongue out than do that. Or burn his tail off, as his other trial happened to be. He'd even get into another fight with that dark colored idiot slung magma around. Accuse him of being old fashioned, or a hopeless romantic. But Ruwin did not mess with love so frivolously. He had been raised in a world where love was not nurtured or taught. Yet he had seen it in the eyes of his mother and sister. He had felt it when he gazed upon them. For him it had become quite sacred, love. He would not trample all over it like this. Even if he believed he would never encounter such an emotion again, he wouldn't attempt to elicit that feeling from another to further his own power. Stubborn, moralistic, call him what you may. He was not the type to care what you thought. Because in the end the only opinion about himself that mattered most was his own. That opinion was rather low at the moment as the pain of loss still bit at him. He was a sore loser. Having been taught by his father that a loss in battle was unacceptable. Any loss would have resulted in punishment. During the trials for his name such a loss would have meant death as he challenged his father. Now, losing to the young and cocky magma-boy, struck a low blow. He didn't mope or complain to the world about it though. He used the anger of his loss and set it to work. That was how this all came about. How the rift sent him a ghost that would haunt his every move until he completed its trials. How he now decided he would not because he held his word as his highest treasure. For what did you truly have if not for your word? Let the pesky ghost continue to pester. He could handle its antics easy enough. In the mean time he would have request a new trial. Receive new challenges. He wished to grow stronger and gain power to challenge anyone else. A power that would also serve to fuel his wings and the engines attached to them. Flight like unto what his father achieved with these wings was within his grasp. He walked among the tide pools. Careful not to step into any of them and disturb the little worlds below. As he did so the ghost would continue to poke at his shoulder or tug at his ear or tail, anything to try and get him to pay attention. But he ignored it. Only focusing on the form that suddenly appeared over the horizon. "Talk." You have three choices in Life: Get up, give in, Or give it all you've got!

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Ru is supposed to convince someone that he loves them. @Ricochet is the unsuspecting volunteer.