For every joy, there is a price to be paid.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Loren was not the only resident in the Launceleyn manor feeling exhausted; the work Fiat Lux had given Abasi had been hard and for a while, seemingly never-ending. He had never been bothered by the sight of the dead, but it had been hard to not be effected by the bodies of the young on his table, especially in such a number. His hands were sore, smelt of the solvents and mixtures he used to work on the bodies, his back aching from leaning over the table.
In addition to all of that, things had been odd with Loren since Fiat Lux. Abasi had played the conversation over in his head a million times, wondering if he had said something different it could have gone better, not left an awkward silence between them in quiet moments. The resolution they'd agreed to have had been pushed aside by disaster and forgotten, it seemed.
Hearing boiling water as he walked down the corridor, rubbing at his eyes and cursing another failed attempt to sleep, he glanced in the doorway to see Loren. Not really knowing why, Abasi found his feet taking him towards the man and then, in something so unnatural to him it felt almost as if his body had been taken over by a spirit, his instinct was to simply put an arm around him, press his face into his shoulder. Wordlessly. An attempt at something like a comforting word, an acknowledgement: Things are hard right now. But I'm still here.
In addition to all of that, things had been odd with Loren since Fiat Lux. Abasi had played the conversation over in his head a million times, wondering if he had said something different it could have gone better, not left an awkward silence between them in quiet moments. The resolution they'd agreed to have had been pushed aside by disaster and forgotten, it seemed.
Hearing boiling water as he walked down the corridor, rubbing at his eyes and cursing another failed attempt to sleep, he glanced in the doorway to see Loren. Not really knowing why, Abasi found his feet taking him towards the man and then, in something so unnatural to him it felt almost as if his body had been taken over by a spirit, his instinct was to simply put an arm around him, press his face into his shoulder. Wordlessly. An attempt at something like a comforting word, an acknowledgement: Things are hard right now. But I'm still here.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Base Code by Sky!
