What will I do now? There is no purpose for me to live. The fates...the cruel, merciless fates shattered my mind, my soul. The gods didn't care...they never did... Did they? Should I glue back the pieces? Or should I leave it shattered... What would be better? End my misery...The gods don't care. I have already won two wars for them. I have no purpose. I looked at the shining blade, glinting in the moonlight, fascinated. Slowly, as if in a trance, I brought it down onto my skin and started drawing-drawing crimson lines. I felt no pain. There was nothing to feel. I thought that it would get rid of my pain. It did not. I would have to try something else; something else to stop the constant throbbing of my heart. What could stop it? Death still owes me a favor.