The deadly volley of javelins enveloped Tribby like an acupuncturist on crystal meth. Her skin screamed in pain and protest as her body was put through a veritable pincushion level of puncturing.
"Holy crap!" Yelled Jay El, the bloodlust and adrenalin banishing his thoughts like heroin to a drug addict's childhood pains. It was in these moments of heightened aggression and violence that the sadness of his life was temporarily replaced with survival instinct.
In an odd way, when he saw the spear heads pierce through Tribby's back, and saw that she was in need of his skills, he felt a sense of... joy.
To be needed. To have no issues with moral ambiguity or dichotomous decisions. She was hurt, he could help. It was simple, and without thought.
"Don't worry!" Jay El yelled, "I'll heal you!" And, as he did so, he felt no inner conflict. No difficulty in using his abilities.
He realized it wasn't others that were difficult to heal. No, helping others was a simple, easy to make choice. It was the question on weather or not he himself deserved the same service.
But, if he were not here... would Tribby not have fallen to the spears?
If he were doomed to become more and more callous to the world, and if he were destined to bring more sadness than joy... Would he still not be able to cancel these destinies out by saving one purer than himself? By accompanying those with a benevolent mission of their own?
"TRIBBY SMASH!" yelled the targets of his spells. Perhaps "purer" was a little generous... but, the point remained. Even if he was lost to darkness himself in the process, he would help this party save the world, and get his daughter back. In the end. All that mattered were the results he had, not the deeds that got him there.