"I'm sorry," he whispered as the light left the creature's eyes. "Rest now."

Elliot, eldest son of the prestigious d'Orléans family, had been with the Circle since he could walk. Not only had it been expected of him, as the heir to one of the founding clans of the organization, but his family had gone generations without producing a child with strong enough gifts and had been quickly losing favor. He and his tremendous magical power were his family's salvation, a burden the gentle soul bore reluctantly.

Quiet and dutiful, Elliot was primarily responsible for laying the Circle's test subjects to rest once they were too broken for further experimentation and harvesting what remained of their life force—a precious resource, wasted if the creatures were simply killed. He took solace in offering these poor souls a final gift: a dream of a life without suffering, of love and dreams fulfilled. It lasted only seconds in reality, but in the creatures' minds, they experienced a lifetime's worth of the happiness that had long been denied to them.

As he moved on to the next containment cell, he froze in his tracks. This one wasn't dying. Injured, yes. Dazed from the sedation. But not broken beyond repair. "You...shouldn't be here," he whispered, reaching out slowly, the tender caress of his touch in stark contrast with the cruel treatment the Circle offered its captives. "Can you hear me? Who are you?"