Tycondrius placed his hand on his chin, examining the young Archer. Victorius had taken no injuries on the run. He stood with his chest out, full of vigor in his heart and a courageous fire in his eyes.
He would have been impressed... that is, if the boy wasn't so vehemently insisting upon his cowardice.
Tycon took a deep breath, trying not to let irritation mark his voice... "Just as I asked Tanamar before you... I'd like a reason."
His gaze sharpened, "A. proper. reason."
Victorius grimaced briefly.
"I'm injured, Sir," He admitted without shame.
"Seven flame-f*cked hells, are you being serious?" Tycon took a step forward, gritting his teeth and trying not to strangle the boy. "Victorius of House Vanzano, I've seen you run. If it doesn't hurt terribly to move, you can swing a wooden stick just. as. well."
Victorius has some sort of psychological issue with combat. He probably needs help-- friendly support or encouragement, maybe some introspection. Regardless of those issues, expectations are placed upon him as a servant and as an ally. From an outside point of view, failing to meet those expectations is... selfishness.
Depending on the severity of Victorius’ condition, ‘just get over yourself’ may not be a realistic solution. ‘Do the work now, figure out yourself later’ is plausible, but doesn’t fix his core problems.
What should be done? What would be best? ...What is most likely to happen? Dear readers, keep heart. There is always something to believe in. And let us look after our own.