Long ago, he looked up to Him.

The promising Ahroun that took a young Theurge beneath His wing for the aptitude even a dirty secret's mistake could hold. Thinking, perhaps, there may be some use before the Nation in making a valuable member of Gaia's Army out of the boy who's head always hung. Every pack required a healer. He had such potential to lead the champions to victory.

She, too, resisted the bigotry rampant among the Tribe's beliefs. Welcoming His packmember into her friendship and heart. Trusting his His beliefs.

For these short months, Sam learned what it meant to be free of his birthright bonds.

Then fate gave them all a cruel reminder that mistakes are meant to be erased.

He did not return from battle.
He bore the entirety of the blame.
What he did was not enough.
Why couldn't he have done more.
It did not matter the mistake was unavoidable.... no one could have saved Him.

The Council's word was final.

The boy who's head hung so low already proved he could not be of use in battle. Forever would the burden of additional shame mantle his shoulders just like the silver scars damaging his already imperfect face. His name spoken with such honorable veneration. His choices would not be allowed to stain such a glorious memory. There must have been a reason He allowed the boar-tusked youth the honor of standing by His side.

Punishment brought a second chance in exile.

He could not prove worthy battle, even when he was needed most. Perhaps the job of guarding His unborn child would not prove as difficult. Redemption found in the obligation to ensure His bloodline did not fall.