"What motivated you to be a mercenary? It cannot be simple gold, can it?"
The corners of the forsaken’s dry lips curled up in an amused smile. “Why does fire burn? Why does a disease spread?” Celaryn let the question linger for a few long moments. She drummed her metal claws against the end of the armrest. “The answer is simple. It is their nature to do so.”
“I have come to realize my own nature; I was born with a soul which relishes conflict and challenge. But this is a double-edged sword. There are not always battles worth fighting. Or even worse, there may be battles fought for the wrong reasons. During these times, I am without purpose.” The warrior’s voice grew somber. She perched her chin onto her metal fist. “Imagine a dog unable to bark to signal its owner or a bee who cannot complete the hive’s duties. The mere thought is a flawed existence, forever unable to achieve its true potential.”
Celaryn interlaced her fingers together and reclined on the seat. She stared toward the rafters and let out a slow exhale through her nostrils. “What place do I, whose only talents lie in killing, have in peace time?” The warrior closed her eyes, pondering her own question. “Countless other soldiers forgotten by society search for an answer alongside me. No matter which flag we fight under or where we shed blood, we all have one thing which unites us: We are killers.”
“Society does not have an answer for killers like us. So we do the next best thing: We sell our skill in killing in a futile effort to return to that place we call home.” A fond smile emerged over her scarred face as if the warrior was in a pleasant slumber. “I return to that place whenever I close my eyes or let my mind wander. Sometimes, that place calls to me like a parent calling their child home. Once you have been to that place, tasted its thrills, the exhilaration, the tension, it all becomes a part of you.”
“That place is the battlefield, and once you have visited it, the warrior within you will never sleep again. That is why I am a mercenary. It is the closest thing to returning home. Its familiarity gives people like me, those cursed with a warrior’s soul, purpose in peacetime.”
“Does that answer satisfy your curiosity?”
