"Look, I didn't ask to be picked. None of us did." Sarah's nostrils were flaring, her usually pale cheeks painted bright red.

"I know." Anmer's voice quivered as he spoke. He understood what she meant. None of them had chosen to be a part of this battle.

"I won't do it. I refuse to be a pawn in the hands of an angry god."

This angered Ammer. An angry god? The Creator was anything but that. Despite Sarah's rage, he couldn't bring himself to believe that the Creator had chosen them without care. None of them had asked to be picked, Sarah was right about that, but if not them, who? Who else would fight?

"It's our duty, Sarah. We can't quit. We can't run away, even if we're afraid."

"You think I'm afraid?" Sarah sounded offended, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Ammer said nothing.

"I'm not afraid. I'm tired. I just want to go home, and I don't even know where home is."

He wanted to reach out to her then, comfort her. He could see the tears in her eyes, but pretended not to. He knew she'd punch him in the shoulder if he tried anything, but he knew how she felt. He missed his home. The home he once had, back in Epoh. That home was long gone, destroyed forever by the Rogues. Tears filled his own eyes as he realized he had no home. No place to go back to. He was a wanderer. They all were.