"[i]He has changed.[/i]" That was all he needed, that short comment to twist the worries of his mind over the edge and into the casasm beyond. There wasn't any chance that his family were finally going to be stricken from this land, cast asunder into history and old, leather bound books that only scholars and monks cared for, or those with ulterior motives. This wasn't the proof he needed, nor was it the proof he wanted. Rhoynar pushed his shoulders back and sat upright, trying with all of his might to remove the twisted and clenching worry from the pits of his stomach and mind. It was better to be with Illinfer than without- Darren, was it? He would have been dead in an instant, had Rhoynar been travelling alone, his mind unable to distract itself from the panic he felt when thinking of his home. After all, Astipor was a trade city. His family needed to hold Astipor, many cities within the Second East wouldn't have been willing to trade with any of the western lords; they offered the eastern kings, slave traders, and merchant lords nothing. They had nothing to trade, nothing to offer and nothing of interest. The world worked differently in the East. Family meant little other than sanctuary out there, there was no promise of inheritance for grand titles and excessive lands just because of name. Over there, title, money and power meant more. Three cities had self-proclaimed kings, although another man with a larger army would surely be King in a day if the opportunity came. Rhoynar's family had grown through a mixture of power and money. Trading in cloth, then spices, before trading in arms. It wasn't until the first Daeron purchased himself a band of loyal sell-swords did they secure their wealth and status, after all trading in slaves was a wealthy business if you held the power to deal with the dangers. 

The olive-skinned man turned his attention to Illinfer as she spoke, her voice betraying the smallest crack in her facade, if only for the smallest second.
"[i]Its a shame what has become of him. He used to be quite lively and very popular with the women. Now he's just this hollow person-[/i]" 

"Grief can do that to a man, no matter what they were like before. If a man turns to drink, or blames himself for another's death, it will often eat them whole, Swallowing everything they had before and have now. It doesn't matter how strong they were before, often its the strongest in battle that fall the furthest when their time is over." Rhoynar commented, his attention forcing itself on the road ahead alone. No matter how hard little he wished his eyes would betray or how solid he willed his hands to be, his worst fears lingered on a reality he'd only heard moments of. He twisted his body, tight muscles holding himself in the saddle of his horse, despite their speed. He sat neatly on top of the hard leather, as regal as any man with the comfort of having ridden for a vast portion of his life.

"[i]Why were you so nervous back there?[/i]" The knight felt his stomach twist again. Admitting his own foolish and untrue concerns made him look weak- "[i]We could have handled it easily should he have attacked us.[/i]" 

"Imagine being told someone wants your family dead, that you are not welcome in the land you call home." Rhoynar spoke, his voice ringing out like cold steel in the dark of the night. "Powerless to do anything about it. To see your home burning before your eyes. Everything your family was and would ever be, gone, ripped out by an unknown enemy in a field of caring faces." He could feel his hands tremble slightly, his voice breaking only not out of sadness, but of anger. "If you know what it is like to lose family, try to picture having them ripped from your life. One by one. To believe they died from a better opponent only to have someone you trust tell you it was straight murder. To find out your own father was poisoned and to never catch the snake." He would blame the Greys.. Rhoynar would rip the head straight off the snake the instant he had a change. "You ask me why I am nervous and that is my reason. My family have only a small number of faces we can trust and they are disappearing by the day. I act not out of foolishness or immaturity but purely out of survival. I do not wish to see my family burn."

He could feel like heart thundering his chest, like hooves over solid ground, riding with speed. There was no reason to shout at Illinfer but he had to. She wouldn't understand- couldn't. She hadn't believed her brother's death to be the result in a God's favour or the death of her father to be the work of a merchant from the Second East, only to have two realities shattered shortly after being sent out of the country. He pushed his heels into the stomach of the beast he rode and spurred the creature into life once again, determined to reach Astipor before he lost his entire family.