Her eyes flashed as she heard the mention of suicide.

Standing up, she called for the attention of everyone. Of course, no one hear her, but she started anyway.

"To live is indeed to die; but is it to die that we must live? Life is short and full of hardships I must confess; and even I have considered taking my own life to stop it.

"But is it worth it? Is that one act worth it?

"You all do know that we must die whether by our own hands, by our enemies, or by our Deity's; but why must we cut short our life and stifle the times that we know shall be better?

"Living is harder than dying; suicide is the cowards' way. To die you no longer feel the pain of a broken heart; no more will the loneliness of the night darken your life. You will pass into the unknown and leave all your troubles behind. But to live is to say I am not a coward. To live is to say I will not bend to the will of those against me." She struck her fist into her opened palm.

"To live is to have life that while short is sweet and all we shall ever have. To die in cowardice for life hasn't lived up to the expectation that you, a mortal has set up for it is the job and the fate of a fool." She raised her hand, now mottled with her own blood.

"This is my blood, and this is not the last blood you shall see. You say you are feared, you say you are a terror. But what feared warlord is it who cannot live with their very selves? How can others fear you if you fear yourself so much as you would kill yourself? Will you now die and silence your fate just because of rejection, or will you stand and proclaim that you are the master of your fate and that they are not? Will you compair yourself to your Deity? Are you the one who decides who lives and dies, or are you just a mortal who is sick of herself?"

She breathed out a troubled breath, then turned and strayed out into the dark.