The terminally ill had been gathered in that building, left to die, no nurse or doctor bothering anymore with them. A creature as beautiful and pure shouldn't be entering such a den, full of disease and death. Yet he wasn't here on accident; his steps had a purpose, a destination as he moved between the writhing humans in the filthy ground.
In the middle of the dark place, he knelt delicately by a young girl that had adored him so, obtaining nothing else but pity in return for her foolishness. Now she was dying, and something akin to guilt had roused him that day, dragged him over to this horrible center to see her one last time…
"You… came… for me?" she asked, disbelieving and before she started coughing, the hand covering her lips getting stained with her blood. Tuberculosis.
He didn't answer, violet eyes sad to see how her emerald ones were losing their brightness, how her soul detached from those clear windows… She had been waiting for him to come, had wanted to see him once more before she…
"You're still so young," he whispered, pushing some strands of her brown hair off her face. "You shouldn't be dying yet…"
The rustle of a pair of feathery wings made him raise his gaze to meet that of a beautiful white bird, which had perched over them on one of the roof's supports.
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