Bronte had gotten up for the first time since...

The Incident

That's what they were calling it. Elwin said good morning, and as much as Bronte wanted to talk, he found he couldn't. 

That was problematic

He could not let himself give into the guilt.

How could he save Fintan when he was broken?

He would not break.

However, if he let the cold black air slip in for just a little...?

NO!
He scolded himself internally

I AM AN ANCIENT
I AM A COUNCILOUR
I AM A-

A-

A brother.

Hopes of finding Fintan were the only thing keeping him from breaking.

He punched a wall, and came back wincing.

That... was a new sensation.

It seemed that the pain drove away the darkness swirling in his head.

He continued hitting the wall, taking out his anger at himself, at Fintan, at the council, at the rest of the neverseen...

Until half an hour later when Elwin came in to check on him.

The physician grabbed his arm. 

"Sir! What are you doing?!" Elwin asked shocked,

Bronte stared at his knuckles, that had long since bled and tore the skin on the top.

I don't know

And I hate it