"At times, There is a hostile demon entrapped within my soul.He screams, and claws, and curses to be let out."
Terran's head swims with thoughts as he runs laps around the wide expanse of Camp, his mind ignoring his body's pleas to stop, to allow him rest. A large stick is strapped across his shoulders with two buckets filled with water on each end. He pushes forward, knowing the only way to curb his Rage, his personal Demon, is to learn discipline and control...but its not the control that bothers him. He knows he will be able to control it over time. Its the dealing with that there is no TRUE way to control what runs through his veins. Its like telling Someone to stop breathing...they will stop for awhile, but every now and again, a breath will be forced into their lungs unconsciously, unexpectedly
"The temptation is there, to rend and destroy but sanity prevails."
He rounds a corner, heading along a long stretch of wagons as he runs, not a single drop of water spilling from those buckets as beads of sweat form over his body. His chest rising and falling as his breathing becomes a bit more harsh. The sound of his own heartbeat only being drowned out by the thoughts running through his mind. Controlling the Demon Within...its not a task that can be easily completed, nor completely accomplished. He must learn when it is appropriate for the Demon to be in control, and when it must be curbed. That will be the key to keeping his sanity and his longevity.
"With cold, firm hands of logic reason reaches out, and the Demon is chained, the breach closed. The chains and gags restored."
He rounds another corner and runs down another long stretch of wagons on the outskirts of camp. His mind racing with each and every pass of P/person, animal and wagon as he continues. Control in camp, rage in battle. The key to survival is not only fight or flight, but decision and control. Each precise movement in battle is also the same out of battle, just on a different level. Like a well-coordinated attack, he must learn when where and why before making action. He was going to be trained to control....Control...something he never needed showing before....not before that day...his first Kill...his first Rage.
"But on some cold, bleak day, in the future, Sanity may not be there, to lend its calming touch."
One day, he will lose it again...he will become a monster, hell-bent on death and destruction...a being that feeds only on the unbridled chaos of battle. That is not something he wanted to become. He will learn to control it, use it at HIS whim...not be a tool to the whims of his Rage. For once a man can control his Rage, then...and only then...is He complete.
"May the Gods help My enemy..."
