This is my fault. I thought, looking upon Or'do as he knelt at the fallen Martyr Logarius's side, his claws drenched in the creature's blood, his eyes alight with the seething inferno of madness. He tilted back his head and roared, a horrifying sound that had no place upon mortal lips. Suddenly, Or'do calmed, looking about with surprise as if just now realizing where he was. 

I drove him to this. He stood, eyes of fire kindled and blazing with almighty fury. No longer did madness reign therein, yet always it lurked, the shadow that fringes light, the emptiness that clings to worlds and stars.

He claims to forgive me. Or'do smashed the Martyr's throne with a thunderous backhand that arced down from on high like a swung warhammer. Yet it cannot possibly be true. His fist crunched through the false wall, revealing the stairs at whose head the vilebloods' matron waited. He ascended those steps eagerly, snapping the claws out wide, their edges grinding against the doorjamb, spraying flecks of stone as he bounded onward.

I've forced him to do this. I strode after him, my blade held limply at my side, knowing that when I found him, the matron would already lie in ruin. Even now I heard her shrill, piercing, yet brief scream as he tore her apart with a beast's ferocity. He is a beast now. I realized. One of the Dark Vassals I was created to destroy. And it is my incompetence that made him so.