Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints -

DANTE

"Wishing doesn't make Clem come back." Dante glares at the floor, refusing to subject his best friend's corpse to his visual rage. Wessex on the other hand had no such refuse from the rage that quietly simmered beneath the surface. Even without his knowledge of its existence his magic has started to seep outwards from his body, seeking life to pull from and strengthen himself. He finally turns his hard gaze to the woman beside him, someone he had once looked up to as Clem had, though not to the same extent.

"You lead the Ascended, don't you? Clem followed you like a puppy. So stop wallowing. You think he'd want more to die because you can't get your act together? Rexanna and Clem— they didn't deserve this." His words come out in a rush, almost spitting them in her direction as he rises, moving to the other side of the table which Clem's body rests upon, his eyes never leaving Wessex as he gazes down now at her. "But they're... They're dead and we can't do shit about it now except make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."

Taking a deep breath and immediately regretting it as his nose wrinkles at the scent of burnt flesh, he rests his palms against the table to steady himself. "Tell me about Safrin. How can I... How can I help and keep this from happening again?"

where you go, i will follow
where you are, i will be