Most certainly, he was sure, the High King was sat stewing in the Capital, waiting for Oliver's march. And that man, surely, as he waited, was boiling with rage for the opponent that was sure to go his way. But, Oliver was still certain that even the High King did not hate Oliver Patrick more than Oliver himself did.
None were more aware of his impurity than he. It had always existed, as the most tainted of all creatures, but it was only since his battle with Tiberius that he began to truly recognise it. As if the evidence of that man's poison was the evidence of Oliver's own poison.
From his social rank, right down to the very things that made up his soul, in the form of the Dark God that so many feared in Ingolsol. If all knew, deeply, all there was to know about Oliver Patrick, how could they like him?
