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For hours, the horse that carried Everlast sprinted south towards the only thing he had left. As he pondered, he wasn't even sure he could go back... everything he'd just done went against all the teachings of those he'd called his family. Even Riminix would be dissappointed in him. He had killed, and killed, and killed in the names of justice, anger and vengence. But in his five years in covert hiding, he'd killed countless "enemies".... who had done nothing wrong but want to protect their homes. He had killed innocents, he had destroyed families... and for what? his own personal vendetta. No, he couldn't face them, he just couldn't.

Everlast was forced to banish himself... the monks he'd known and come to call family would rather he died in his mission then to come back with the disgrace he held to himself. The protector of light had done the exact opposite, he had become the hunter in the dark. "No..." his mouth let out.... none were around, only himself and his horse Darthil, who he'd named after Riminix. Darthil slowed and came to a stop in response to Everlast pulling back on the reins. The man sat there in the middle of the plains, miles from anyone, on his horse. "No" he let out once more, his no's trailed off his lips and dissappeared instantly. He was almost whispering to himself the word over and over again. Suddenly he let out a burst from his lungs lunging the word "No" into the far reaches to hear. Tears gathered in his eyes again, there was no going back. He couldn't let himself go back.

After regaining himself, he tugged the reins to the west... he would leave this land entirely. No more war, no more would his past and present plague him. For now, his only option was to start a new, somewhere else, away from it all. Darthil rode swiftly west across the plains, for hours until the borders of the warring kingdoms had long since been passed. The plains grew past him, and the woods now filled his view. The lands to the west of the war were peaceful, and had no real governing body to speak of. Infact many of the villages that exsisted in the west didn't even know about the war that had been waging on beyond their borders these past twenty-five years. For the seventeen years of his life, that is all Everlast knew. True he lived in peace for most of it, but the war grew on his doorstep nonetheless.

After days, Everlast had rode deep within the woods of the west. He had finally found a decent place to settle down and rest for a few days. There was a decent covering of trees that would protect him from the weather.... this forest was deep and dense. Indeed he needed rest, he had rode for the better part of a day without stopping. Setting up camp, he allowed himself to slip into deep sleep. Everlast Relaford Riminix slept quietly that night. He was not a Markasis, he ahd given that name up after his vengence had be sought. For now, he had only three names, and in truth perhaps he didnt even deserve two of them. How could he call himself Relaford after killing the man who he recieved that name after. And after what he'd done.... would Riminix trully call him son. These were the thoughts that sent him to sleep. Indeed for now, he would simply be Everlast... until he though himself worthy of the others.