Hatred is a bitter, damaging

emotion. It winds itself through the blood, infecting its host and driving it

forward without any reason. Its view is jaundiced and it skews even the clearest

of eyesights.

Sacrifice is noble and tender.

It's the action of a host who values others above himself. Sacrifice is bought

through love and decency. It is truly heroic.

Vengeance is an act of violence.

It allows those who have been wronged to take back some of what was lost to

them. Unlike sacrifice, it gives back to the one who practices it.

Love is deceitful and sublime.

In its truest form, it brings out the best in all beings. At its worst, it's a

tool used to manipulate and ruin anyone who is stupid enough to hold it.

Don't be stupid

Sacrifice is for the weak.

Hatred corrupts. Love destroys. Vengeance is the gift of the strong.

Move forward, not with hatred,

not with love.

Move forward with purpose.

Take back what was stolen. Make

those who laughed at your pain pay. Not with hatred, but with calm, cold

rationale.

Hatred is your enemy. Vengeance

is your friend. Hold it close and let it loose.

May the gods have mercy on those

who have wronged me because I will have no mercy for them.

Xypher paused as he read the words

he'd written on the floor of his cell in his own blood centuries ago. Dull and

faded, they were a reminder to him of what had brought him to this time and

place.

They were a sacred vow to himself.

Closing his eyes, he spread his hand

out and the words dissolved into a mist that lifted from the floor only to

reassemble down his left arm. Symbol by symbol, word by word, the characters,

still bloodred, cut themselves into his skin. He hissed at the burn of them

engraving themselves into his flesh. That pain succored him. It strengthened

him.

Soon he would be free for one month.

One month to track and to kill. The one he'd sacrificed himself for would pay

and if he earned his reprieve in the process . . . Good.

If he didn't . . .

Well, vengeance sometimes deserved a

good sacrifice. At least this time, he'd die knowing no one was laughing at him

anymore.