Randon was a Patriot, that’s what they called him now. Like it was some dirty word. Branded a Patriot like someone would brand a witch, and hunted like one too. In his life long passed he was a full fledged member of The Council of Twenty, but he worked his way up to it, and she knew every little dirty secret he ever had. Every underhanded, sneaky, and terrible thing he’d ever done, willfully, or by complete chance. She called him the man with the overactive pen.
“In a couple weeks, however, he was well enough to go about his life. At least he would have something interesting to talk about if he ever saw another living being again.”