The healer's face went through a flock of micro-expressions, one after the other: mild confusion, discomfort, and then settled on anxiety. Linhardt didn't meet Carson's eyes, choosing instead to look around their surroundings, grounding himself with mental questions about the meaning of what he saw.

To say Linhardt wasn't used to concern would be an understatement.

"I want to live. I will take great steps to do so." Loyalty, for example, didn't concern Linhardt at all. If he were in a situation where he needed to surrender or turn traitor in order to live, he would do so. Linhardt was an unabashed coward.

"My life is equal to anyone's else's in value." There was no difference between souls - at least not that Linhardt could sense. It was a tragedy whenever a living person's life drained away and sensing it always nauseated Linhardt. Battlefields were constant assaults on Linhardt's magical senses.

Linhardt was silent for a moment.

"I discovered a long time ago that I have very little control over the possibility of death. I do have some control over how I live my life. I will not become one of the people who places my personal desires other the lives of others. I have seen where that leads."

That was a lot of words for something very simple. It was only logical, "I do not mind. I have stopped panicking when I am injured; I can handle it."

What do you mean, disassociation is bad? Disassociation is great.