The way A'lentas stood, dressed in the slightly brown pastel white garb made him seem nothing unlike a little saint, his boyish features making him look like a child doll, with brilliantly faint amber colored eyes bordering on a metallic gold - a doll uncovered from a forgotten corner of the House, and making anyone who sees him want to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him look more radiant than he was. His beauty was blasphemous and glorious at the same time.
His cheeks went apple perfect suddenly as the Dracon asked him the question, his mouth softening as if so ready for the words to just spill forth, but then some vague yet profound realization private to himself locked the breathe in his lungs. No longer did he look like a church ornament where people were gentle around him, he had hardened in ways he never thought he could, surviving only on nature. It was a delicious yet depressing thought at the very same time.
When he finally spoke again, his magnificent orbs seemed lighted up with halogen, bright, shining, deliberate beams at the creature above him. He seemed humbled and chastened in the same instance.
"I see." He murmured, wistfully, his ears were turned in another direction, as if listening to some far away music. The light in his eyes were set ablaze by the sun, as if he had just received a divine epiphany from the heavenly vaults above, arching over all the hazed illumination that imprints over all things big and small.
"I seek a purpose, one that is for me to discover for myself and not don onto me since the day I was born. I seek life, perhaps strongly than I ever did before, but I fear it, fear the lack of meaning in these lands which I waddle on aimlessly." He would never been so open if it were another, but he was too last in the golden of the Wyvern's eyes, the smooth gleaming dark scales that shone with its own ardent light.
Alleria had destroyed him.
He was overwhelmed. It was grief veritably blinding him, and bitterness and a deep ugly horror for the time he had wasted when there was so much more to do on Vilyatol. Horror. Would he fall out of Carmelya's favor forever for this disavowal? In a shock, he realized that he had never been so divorced from his feelings. Nothing, perhaps even the worse of all emotions, could claim him.
"There is nothing left for me here."
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