//------------------------------//
// Short and Not Sweet 
// Story: Ofolrodi 
// by Imploding Colon 
//------------------------------//

"I've tried to put her behind me," Logan said, staring vacantly into the stone floor of the common room between himself and Seraphimus.  "Whenever Flynn or Ariel ask how I'm doing.  I tell them that I'm 'carrying on just fine.'  That the past is behind me.  That I've left all of my business back in Rohbredden long before we ever crossed paths with the Austraeoh."

He took a deep breath, slouching back in his seat.

"But not a day goes by when I don't think of Sariah..."  He gulped.  "Of Luram."  His ears drooped.  "Of the life we almost had together.  But... then again..."  A bitter smirk, cast sideways.  "What kind of a friggin' life would that have been?  Cowering in the caves and alcoves of Storm Prefecture?  Hiding from Wendigoes?"

Seraphimus stared at him in silence.

"Bergen's no idiot," Logan muttered aside.  "He'll drag his family out of their padded rooms and take them someplace safe.  Someplace closer to Frostknife."  He inhaled slowly.  "And those Wendigoes aren't the end of the world.  Rohbredden will move on.  They're down one foppish fascist anyways."

The room was quiet for a while.

At last, Seraphimus spoke: "Verlaxion is no longer around to protect them."

"Yeah, well..."  Logan squinted at her sideways.  A glinting eye.  "When the Hell did she ever protect anypony?"

The former Talon Commander had no response.

"You've spent all your life defending and worshipping a Goddess you've never even seen," Logan murmured.  His brow furrowed.  "Did you ever once stop to question if you should?"

Seraphimus' response was swift.  "No."

"Hmmmm..."  Logan slowly nodded.  "I've killed countless ponies in my life.  I irresponsibly banged up a mentally-challenged young mare.  I brought an innocent foal into this world then ditched her far away in a country plagued by frozen horse ghosts.  All of those horrible accomplishments under my name... and yet still... I pity you."

Seraphimus blinked.

"Because—even if I'm some horrible goddess-damned monster..."  Logan stood up from the table.  "I still found some beautiful moments to live.  And I don't regret them one bit."

"I loved my family," Seraphimus hissed.  "I've 'lived' no less than you, cretin."

"And if by some dayum miracle they were to come back today, they'd pity you all the same."

Seraphimus opened her beak... but she had nothing to say.

"It doesn't matter how we live when things are all nice and peachy," Logan droned.  "What truly counts is how we carry on when shit sucks."  He picked up the armor in one hoof and pointed at her with the other.  "And you—lady—have proven to be nothing more than a real shit-sucker."

That said, he turned tail and trotted out of the common room.

With a breath, Seraphimus craned her neck and spoke:  "Wait..."

Logan shuffled to a limp stop.

The griffon's brow furrowed.  "Why... did you tell me all of this?"  Her headcrest drooped halfway.  "Your veritable life's story..."

Logan's shoulders hunched slightly.  "I dunno.  Kinda figured there was a spark hidden under all that dullness of yours.  I've carried that same color before.  Hell, I'm still carrying it now."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

Logan glanced calmly over his shoulder.  "You're asking me, aren't you?"

"... ... ..."

Logan left.

Seraphimus sat alone, staring at the stillness all around.  The chains around her hung limp.  Weightless.  She didn't say a word.