there's a sadness in the youth before him. a sickness that ardyn is unfamiliar with- but at the same time... he feels he knows it intimately. he knows the look of suffering. of confusion. the boy looks like ... like someone with the scourge.
he's reminded of his own childhood. of somnus falling ill. of how his brother was locked in a dark room and fated to die, until ardyn entered with all of his holy light and banished the darkness. that was the first time he had healed anyone. everything was linked to somnus, wasn't it?
that's why the truth stung. when he'd awoken, a man named verstael besithia told him that somnus had built a city on the blood and bones of his brother. somnus had wiped him from history, lucis' darkest secret.
somnus named his kingdom lucis? light. like ardyn. ardent, burning. he still couldn't do anything without using ardyn, somehow, could he?
he realizes he's been staring at the boy, who looked just as nervous as any victim of the scourge. bandaged, dressed in something that ... maybe resembled the rather uncomfortable outfit verstael had put him in. he's sick. he needs to be healed.
❝ you have nothing to fear, ❞ says the healer, kneeling to be a little closer to the boy's height. he holds out a hand ⎛ palm scarred as if nails had been driven through- old scars of a crucifixion gone wrong ⎠ , a flickering light dancing at his fingertips. ❝ you're hurt. i can heal you. ❞
