In his room, Ashen wipes away his tears with a rough swipe of his sleeve.
He hates tears, hates crying with a passion. It feels like weakness, something he never wants to allow himself to show.
But no matter how many times he tells himself to stop, the tears still come, stubborn and relentless, like the ache inside his chest that refuses to go away.
His parents' voices echo in his mind. Their words, their concerns, their constant reminders of his purpose.
It's always about what he was born for. Never just about him. Never just Ashen.
Sometimes, he wonders if they would have wanted him at all if the Moon Goddess hadn't interfered.
If he weren't destined for something bigger, something heavier than he ever asked for, would they have even kept him? Loved him?
But he knows it's not true. Deep down, he knows. That thought never settles fully in his heart because it doesn't belong there.
They love him. And he loves them.
