"The person I was when I was truly in childhood was -" He rubs at his nose, wrinkling it as if the memory were a distasteful smell and clears his throat. "She didn't quite fit in, even before I knew. Even before my body had fully formed, I knew that there were differences. I asked questions about the outside until I was taught to not ask questions anymore. And the person barely out of childhood, once I had become a man, was one who saw a lot of death in training."

It isn't Garlean military training by a long shot, but he still remembers - "The iron soldiers first infiltrating our Wood and the destruction they brought. Timber for their war machines and fires and whatever else they wished." There's a slight undercurrent of anger. "And I knew I did not want any more to suffer." Maybe they have a point. Maybe he is like -

He clutches his head with one hand, staggering until his other hand finds a wall. The memory, the Echo - he's even worse with the reaction than Mykha is. His chest heaves and it takes a bit for his breathing to calm. He blinks and he looks at Eula.

"... I can understand taking revenge for a sibling. I can't understand killing family, but I suppose I'm not cold-blooded enough." It's not meant to be a dig, just a comment. Some of the Scions are more utilitarian than he is, and while he's on that side of the scale he's not as far as... that.