[Darin watches her quietly, listening to her explanation while she goes about her work. He can't get over just how exhausted she looks and it makes his heart tighten up in his chest. But he knows if he told her to stop, to rest, she'd adamantly refuse.]

[Darin was honestly beginning to admire that strength.]

[If nobles in his world could be like her, Alvale would be such a beautiful place...]

[He's shaken from his thoughts as she dabs a particularly tender area on his chest. His muscles flutter and flex in response and he winces as he sucks in a breath.]

Lucky me, I guess...

[But something about what she said strikes him. About how this gloom was pure Hatred. He feels his mouth go dry at the implications. Especially because...]

I've...I've felt something like this before. The pain, the way my wounds aren't healing as quickly...

[He exhales slowly, shakily.]

The night my brother and father were killed...our assailants.

They were demons.

The wound on my back...I was bedridden for weeks. It didn't...it didn't heal the way other wounds did. That's why everyone was horrified that I even survived...