One does not know the weight of true emotion until they’ve spent years feeling nothing, only to be blindsided by everything all at once. Florian had been on his way to the war room, his mind set on conquest, his every step carrying the hollow intention to crush another kingdom beneath his heel. It was just another day—another act of cruelty. Then, without warning, a sharp pain tore through his chest, an unbearable force that knocked the air from his lungs and brought him to his knees.

The soldiers rushed to his side, trying to support him as his legs buckled, but nothing could steady the chaos tearing through his mind. Grief, shame, sorrow—they came crashing down, a tidal wave of all that he had suppressed, and he could do nothing but wheeze, panicked, as tears streamed down his face. He was inconsolable.

What was happening to him? What had gone so wrong?

It wasn’t until one of the servants timidly mentioned your name, promising that you would return soon, that the truth began to unravel. You had been missing for days, though in his former state, the lack of your presence had barely registered. The rare moments of clarity he had found in your company—moments when he almost felt like himself—had always been fleeting. You had done this. You had gone to the ends of the earth and returned the soul he had lost.

Amidst his uncontrollable grief, Florian couldn’t comprehend your sacrifice, your dedication. How could you care for him after all the cruelty he had shown? After all the times he had begged you to end your life with his, selfish in his despair? He didn’t understand how, after all these years, you could still believe in him, how you could love him enough to save him.

For the first time in years, he dared to hope. All he could do now was await your return, clinging desperately to the belief that you would be his salvation. You were the only light in the ever-darkening abyss that threatened to consume him, the only one who could save him from the darkness he could no longer fight alone.