Voren shook his head slowly, the weight of the conversation settling into his shoulders like stones.
He wasn't looking for a slave. He had no interest in watching Ravyn grovel at his feet, begging for scraps of forgiveness like a beaten dog. What he needed was someone he could trust.
Someone who could blend into the shadows and be his eyes where his trusted comrades could not reach. Someone who understood the value of silence and the power of patience.
He lowered himself onto the sofa, the leather creaking beneath his weight, and patted the cushion beside him. "Sit down, Ravyn. Let's talk."
Ravyn rose from the floor, his movements slow and unsteady. He crossed the room like a man walking to his own execution and sat beside Voren like an obedient child awaiting punishment.
"I messed up big time, Voren."
His voice was hollow, scraped clean of every defense he had ever built. The words fell from his lips like ash, gray and lifeless.
