Orbs of enchanted pewter swirled within the shade cast by thick curtains of black and gold, vessels of black raked across the whites of his eyes, like a cancer, showing the fatigue laced within them. Tired as they were, they still shone with a zeal that could not—and would not—be suppressed.
The dream had haunted him all his life, playing like a curse on repeat, forcing him to relive the past and shoulder the weight of memories he would rather forget, memories that seemed to show him the horrifying truth of who he truly was, and the worst of it was that even with this realization, he did not seem to hate it, and that was what made him fear to actualize the realization.
