Minotaurs inside a maze

World's Edge — a breath of hope in the dismal quagmire of the Rift. Your ears come up; something sharpens in your gaze, some quick excitement. He is a fellow, orphaned and estranged as you are. He is a potential ally, and you, you who have spurned and misunderstood the companionship of your own kind, now lean forward eagerly. Craving it. You nod a quick affirmative. This is good. This is beyond good. The man is big, he's angry, he's like you. A grin crawls across your features as his voice rises in answer to your statement. It's a great ringing baritone, strangely accented, but that hardly bothers you. All you see is what you want to see. Triumphantly, your wings flex. You stretch the sinewy muscle of your neck, still the smirk lingering around the edges of your mouth. “They were taken by surprise,” you explain. “Murdered.” Your grandmother among them. And oh, the shiver of hate that runs through you. The sudden, visceral need for Kisamoa's throat in your teeth. “And now those of us who survived are here. I don't know where the others are. Hiding, maybe.” You glance around as if you expect them to reappear, but your gaze is disdainful. Hate burns in your guts for those who do nothing nearly as hot as it does for the monster Himself. Why didn't your father come south with you? Your mother? Your twin? You are alone. Again. Except.... You are not. You have him, Yves of the World's Edge, and that is a start, isn't it? You have Savera, somewhere, quick-witted and silver tongued. You are not alone. The gods of Helovia have not abandoned you completely. “Now?” You echo the stranger's last question. “Now, I'm going to find the bastard who did this and kill him until it sticks.” Your wings flex again, a sort of shivering little motion, and a hard breath leaves your lungs. Yes, you are going to rip open everything this place loves and spill its life blood into the abyss. A thought occurs to you. “You can help,” you offer, surprisingly magnanimous. “If you want. We might need more.” Perhaps there are others in the Rift who don't harbor a disturbing amount of cowardice in their hearts. Those who feel as you do, but have yet to find a common purpose. “And I need to find out where this place's weak points are.” Now you're distracted, your eyes skating the trees but looking somewhere into the future. Somewhere into the past. Thinking. Planning. It's new to you, but it feels good. countdown to selfdestruct

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@Yves