Welcome to Gaia! ::

Azreth strode down the long corridor, his footsteps muffled by the deep crimson carpet blanketing the grey stone beneath it.
Bare feet padded along easily, and long, white hair was allowed to fall free below broad shoulders.
Thin beams of moonlight could be spotted leaking in through grand arched windows set on opposite sides of the hallway, and illuminated those white locks.

A gentle breeze swept through a single open window, to ribbon around the corridor in a chaotic pattern, passing the lone man to exit out of the carved double-doors he had emerged through some time ago.
Lavender eyes seemed weary, if not tired from a long night of reading in his library, and to ease his eyes, the Godsent extinguished each lit sconce mounted on the walls he passed with a gentle breath.

He drew near to the Grand Doors that led out to the grounds, and he sighed at the task of locking it. As Azreth reached a slender hand adorned with a single ring out to drop the first bolt, a desperate knock echoed through the empty halls.

Azreth opened the heavy door, lean muscles straining in a fight with the heavy mahogany wood of the double-doors.
Pulling them inward, Azreth's gaze wandered down towards the ground, following the sounds of muffled sobs and racking coughs.
"Oh, Gods have Mercy."

Lavender eyes widened at the extent of the blood being illuminated by the moon's rays.
It always looks worse than it is.

Or so he hoped.
Setting his mouth in a grim line, the man knelt down, one knee on the soft grass beneath him.
"I need you to relax. You're in shock, and for good reason."

Oh, Azreth could Feel his pain.
Scooping the man into sheltering arms, Azreth rose from his crouch, and carried the man to the Castle's Guest Chambers, forgetting in his haste to shut the doors, or even to extinguish those once-irritating flames.

+~~~+~~~+~~~+

Five days had passed, and Azreth sat in the Great Hall, alone at the head of the grand dining table meant to seat twenty.
The black oak of the polished table was a stark contrast to the white marble walls, and the floor of checkered black-and-white stonework eased the eye in an odd, hypnotic way if one was not used to it.

The boy Azreth had found on his doorstep had yet to awaken, and, spooning a mouthful of warm broth into his mouth, Azreth knew it was just a matter of when now, and not if.

He had been nursing the pale boy back to health, and, slowly, he had seen improvement.

Although he wouldn't admit it to himself, Azreth was rather curious about the boy. He had checked on him at least thrice daily, and had suffered an odd, unexplainable surge of disappointment when he had found the child still resting.

Those pleading, pale eyes still haunted him in the silence of this cold night.

So lost in his thoughts was he that Azreth failed to hear the footfalls of the very boy he was brooding over entered the Dining Hall.

Azreth startled, and his spoon clattered to the wooden table.
Ah, how he had grown so accustomed to the mournful silence of this dreary place.

Clearing his throat and picking up his spoon, Azreth motioned to any one of the vacant seats that lines the table.

"And to you, child. You must be starving. Sit, I'll bring you some food."

Azreth stood, and the feet of his chair grated against the tile beneath it.
He strode away from the table, glad of an excuse to account for his absence.

Oh, how gorgeous the boy was!
Azreth paused in the roomy kitchen and leaned against a wall, resting his forehead against the cool stone to clear his thoughts.

But, yes, he must be hungry indeed.
Rummaging around, the man found a wooden bowl and spoon quickly enough, and ladled a generous amount of still-warm stew into the oak.

Without a word, Azreth returned to the Dining Hall and set the soup in front of the now-seated boy.

Giving the man a reassuring smile, Azreth returned to his own dinner.

Hours had passed since the awkward dinner, and Azreth was making his nightly round of his inherited castle - making sure windows were shut, sconces put out, and doors to the cellar, food storage, upper towers, and the grand doors were locked.

As he was making his way past young Tristam's room, however, he heard a muffled sobbing that wrenched his heart and stopped the male in his tracks.

Resting his forehead on the heavy oak door separating room from hall, Azreth listened to the muffled sobs for several heartbeats.
Steeling his nerves, Azreth eased the door open and treaded quietly into the room.

Tristam sat upon the four-poster bed, and the pastel, pale blues of the decorative pillows and comforter accentuated the long white hair, the pale skin, and, most of all, contrasted harshly with the black tears spilling from behind that porcelain mask.

Azreth closed his eyes as an overwhelming sadness overcame him; damn the Gods to hell.

Inhaling softly, the man sat down next to the white-haired beauty and wrapped a strong arm about him, offering comfort when the boy needed it most.