The light of Ishal's beacon, blazing against the chaos as blood rained down around him, would be a sight forever etched into the mind of Carver Hawke. That day, on the red fields of Ostagar, he had become a man. He had fought alongside good men and women, many of whom he had then watched cut down before him. Despite the betrayal and the horrors that came after it, that momentary light had cut through the death. Carver could remember looking up at the remote tower, his heart bursting with the knowledge that a few of their own had made it through. It had been a short lived hope for them all, but the power of that moment had never diminished.
He had fled Ostagar when it had all fallen down. Like so many others, he had been forced to. And the maturity forged in him by the horrors he'd experienced had been quickly stripped from him by the life he had run back to. Where days before he'd been a soldier, a warrior, he was quickly demoted to being a little brother once more; a boy. He had stood