Elian sat on the stairs in front of the manor, staring blankly onto the courtyard.
He was staring, but he was seeing nothing. Everything seemed pitch black in his sight; the only true visions were in his head on constant repeat as his mother disowned him with a disgust he didn't know she was capable of.
He was alone.
Misunderstood, and hurting so badly.
Footsteps slowly approached from the side, but he didn't bother to lift his head; he didn't care who it was.
"Mind if I sit?" Soren asked calmly behind Elian.
Without lifting his head, Elian shrugged.
Soren's shadow fell over Elian as he lowered himself beside him. He turned his head to Elian, observing the younger man's face. A profound, sullen sadness clung to Elian's features—one he'd never seen before.
"Are you alright?" Soren asked gently.
Elian didn't respond; he simply kept staring into space.
