Marek woke up to brown eyes staring at him. They weren't the brown eyes he was used to greeting each morning.
No, these brown eyes were framed by blonde brows.
"You're still here?" Marek asked. He didn't care much about the healer. The boy who had stayed away from him.
The one who couldn't even stand by him.
Albert was not his equal. Wrath had thrown him away to a life of hell.
Marek didn't understand why he was even talking to the boy. Why wasn't he trying to chase him away?
There was no will in those brown eyes. No strife.
"Valentius needs me," Albert said, looking around. The boy in question was not there.
The campfire had gone out. Its ashes were cold in its pit.
"Darn, now we have to build the fire again," Albert tried to get up, only to be tugged back down.
"Forget about the fire. Answer my question," Marek said, gently holding Albert's arm.
Valentius' words echoed in his mind. Should he give Albert a chance? Should he work for that love?
