Dolmas released Alice with a soft smile, as she seemed to have mostly calmed down. He grasped her hand firmly, as a last unspoken promise that he was still there, even if he had stepped away.
Then he heard Kvothe break the silence, and Dolmas turned to him as he spoke.
"My name is Kvothe Usarius. Yirim the Archon, well...he's my brother. Yes, I withheld that from you. No, it didn't matter because it wasn't relevant. No, I didn't realize he was responsible. I was just as...horrified as all of you...maybe even more so. I think we are still in Falkreath, but I don't know the exact location. From the position of the stars fading with the dawn, we were dead for roughly four months. Who knows what he could have done in that amount of time."
Dolmas tried again to wrap his mind around the situation. He had tried to once, when he heard the Archon refer to him as brother back at the chapel, along with a friendly sword in the chest. Dolmas didn't have much time to think about then, but now.
There was the feeling of betrayal; of being lied to or used. But those were somewhat unfounded, as the man was just as surprised as they of his turn.
He wasn't able to say a word, as the others began to announce their response to the situation.
First, the imperial mage, wondering what they should do next, and giving good ideas.
Then, Vladier, saying that going after the Archon now would only repeat their previous attempt.
Then the bosmer, Valin, agreed with Vladier's sentiments and decided we should find an inn and see what had taken place these last four months.
Finally, the khajiit growled his displeasure at Kvothe, stating that he should have told them this information, as he felt betrayed. Exactly how Dolmas felt. But hearing it aloud only proved his original point.
Getting upset with Kvothe for not telling them something he didn't know himself was fruitless.
Finally, it became too much for the mystic. He exploded into a fit of rage.
"Who do you think you are? You know nothing. I have lived as a prisoner in my own body for centuries. Yet you, a child, dares to speak to me as if you know what true pain is."
"You will be silent and listen. I was there to save the people from the undead, my brother just happened to be there so it wasn't relevant. I didn't know it was connected. Yet you berate me as if it's all my fault. Our mission wasn't the Archon, but the undead, so it had nothing to do with you! Any of you! Do you not understand what just happened? Do you not understand how broken I am right now!?! My brother, a holy hero praised through history, massacred a town; including women, children, and newborns! Did I know I would react the way I did? No! But I resolved to kill him the instant I realized his evil! MY BROTHER! MY ONLY FAMILY!"
"I don't know what's going on and why this is happening! Why my brother has fallen so far! But don't you dare, don't you fluffing dare, judge me or attempt to command me ever again! Because you will cannot understand the pain, sorrow, and hopelessness I feel right now!"
"You know nothing...you're all so young...so naive..."
Dolmas then felt a mix of emotions as he watched the breton rage about, shouting how it wasn't his fault that his brother turned. That he was just as conflicted about what happened as the others, if not more.
Chalk one up for Dolm!
But there was also something he said. Well, two things, but they went together hand in hand.
That none of them could understand the pain, or sorrow that he felt. That they were too young or naive to know that pain.
Who did that sound like?
Could this man be another tortured soul, like himself?
Dolmas made a split decision, and strode to where Kvothe was, and plopped down next to him. He placed a hand at his back, and the breton tensed. Dolmas was almost put off enough to stop there, but he continued. He spoke to him, but hoping only Kvothe could hear him.
"When I was a boy, barely in my pre-teens. I was playing a game with some children from my village." The mystic looked to him, more than likely confused as to why he said this. Dolmas looked off and continued.
"We decided we could play a game of hide and seek. I was chosen to be it." Dolmas started to choke up a little. "It was there I discovered that I as plagued with a sickness of the mind, a disease given to me by a daedric lord. It was given to me in the form of a murderous split personality, named Valen."
Aww. Your talking about little old me. Make me sound good, Dolm!
"Valen ended up killing those children, doing inhumane things to them that, to be honest, was very similar to what we saw back in Rorikstead. You know, minus the giant bone monster. We were then outcast from our home, shunned by our village and sent to skyrim barely able to keep the clothes on our backs."
Anyone could see Dolmas begin to lose himself in the memories, a tear or two running down his face. He had never told this story to anyone before. But he had a point to make with it, so he had to get through it.
"I had to watch as by my own hand, I carved my parents into tiny pieces. Tore into them with my father's hunting knife."
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, continuing.
Finish it Dolm.
"You say we don't know pain. That we are too young or naive to comprehend your suffering." He patted his back again, feeling himself get a grip on his emotions.
"I had to watch hopelessly as Valen, using my hands, slaughtered three innocent children, and my own parents, along with any friends I had made in over 60 years."
He pause to let that sink in.
"I came here on a whim; a complete accident, after I locked myself in an abandoned dungeon for three days, hoping I would starve to death. I believe I've had my share of suffering. I know pain."
Leaving it at that, he stood, dusting his pants and grabbing at the broken swords that lay next to him, tucking them into their proper places. He spoke again, this time not caring if the others heard him or not.
"The difference is that I have used it to better myself. I've had endless opportunities to end my life, for the sake of others, but I haven't been able to. Even so, I've done a few good deeds with my existence that made other's lives better."
By Sheo is your speech over yet? I just want to kill the bastard for chopping our head off. Why'd you have to make it so mushy?
He ignored Valen again, and held out his hand for Kvothe to grab.
"You need to work through your despair of losing your brother to the other side; use your pain to better this world. And I'm going to help you."
He then turned to the others, not surprised that they had probably heard his sad story. But he smiled, looking among them. "We're going to help you."
