Artimius paused at the door, his hand resting lightly on the frame. "Oh, I was offered one. Many times. The Gods are generous… when they want something."
He finally turned, eyes meeting Damon's. "But I am a man who has lived a long life. I have very few years left in these old bones and a lot of pride. Why must I submit to someone else? Hmmm? Of all the people, I think you will understand me perfectly fine."
He turned again, the faintest flicker of something bitter in his step. "Be careful, Blood God. Power is a seductive chain. It wraps around your neck like a gift, and you wear it gladly… until the day you forget what your own voice sounds like."
He walked away, footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor, leaving Damon staring after him. "This old guy is not too bad, I guess." Damon smiled.
