Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

[Uraziel]

Timothy Serrano’s was sad. Which meant, more so than usual. Normally, he already worried about a lot of things. Like the lives of the people in the hospital he was working in, what he might do to help whoever else made the impression of being stressed or unhappy, all kinds of injustice in society – no, one couldn’t really say that he was indifferent to his surroundings. He tried his best to be cheerful, but was by no means always successful. And feeling whenever someone died was not particularly helpful for that. Of course, it was a natural thing, and it had to happen. But somehow, in the last few centuries, there had been so much pain he’d grown weary of it. There had been new, more efficient ways to kill people. There had been wars, still were. And despite doing all he could to help humanity, he was not certain anymore it was enough.


This morning, they’d got a call about a traffic accident, and as soon as Timothy Serrano had got there, he’d known it was too late. Two people were involved, and both their lives were hardly more than a flickering, futilely struggling against the inevitable. What made it worse was that he could have saved them. It would have taken him some effort, but he should have been able to do it. And yet, he didn’t. He, who was sent to protect mankind, he who was if not the only one able to help them, he let them die before his eyes.


Of course, he had thought this through many times. It was impossible for him to help everyone, and he had sworn to himself he’d never make a choice whom to heal and whom not to. He’d done this mistake once, and it had turned out to become one of his most painful memories. To him it had seemed that every dead face was asking him the wordless question ”Why not me?”.


Instead, he did what he could to make their departure as peaceful as possible. He had used his powers and gently touched them, calming their fears. He could afford doing so; it didn’t take much energy and, besides, he would get it back. Because once they had actually fallen into a light slumber, he took away the rest of their life force. He actually killed them. Every time he told himself that the energy would otherwise be wasted, that they would only suffer otherwise, and, logically, it was the best solution, really. But then again, every time he had to do this he hated himself a tiny little bit for it – and his ability.


It was not much later that he suddenly felt people dying, not so far away. Timothy almost dropped something a cup of tea when it happened, and it took him some effort to stop himself from shivering. It hurt him almost physically when someone just… vanished. Even though it had to have been an accident this time, he’d have noticed any human being near. Fortunately. Whenever faced with murder, Timothy faced a burning rage deep inside him. People didn’t know what they were destroying. They couldn’t sense the precious thing they carelessly tore to pieces and yet… It was not his task to judge them. He was sent to protect them, and under no circumstances he was allowed to give in to his own anger. That had also happened already. Killing someone wouldn’t make anyone else come back to life.


It had been, as far as he could tell, a painful death. And, apparently, that had left visible traces on him; he tried to reassure his colleagues that he was not feeling bad at all, and they only imagined him being a bit more pale and absent-minded than usual, but was not really convincing. There was no way he could have told them the actual reason, and it was only him who know that it was close to impossible for him to get physically ill. He was told rather strictly to take the afternoon off.
Even though it was a bit of a bother sometimes, Timothy found it rather touching at times to see how his workmates worried about him. His ability made others feel at ease near him, and consequently they easily took a liking to him. It was only occasionally that he felt guilty about that, too – as if he was manipulating them.


For some time, he aimlessly wandered around, without knowing what he actually was looking for. Maybe he just needed to see with his own eyes how normal life resumed, how quickly the situation could return to normal, as if it had never happened, maybe it was something else entirely. But Timothy felt a pacifying calm rising in him, and gently brushing aside the feeling of death. Of course, he would not forget it, neither now or at any time in the future, but the pain slowly subsided. The sun was already beginning to set; it seemed he had spent more time sauntering than he’d thought. His feet had carried him to the entrance of a park; when he thought about it, it wasn’t very surprising. Children were playing somewhere near, other people just relaxing, and together with all the plants and animals, the place was just more alive than the rest of the town. He could not help but smile watching as some little birds were landing on the bushes nearby, and questioningly chirping in his direction. Animals being unusually confiding towards him wasn’t anything new towards Timothy, but it still was comforting. Simple as they were, their only trouble in the whole world seemed to be how to find the next worm.
Timothy was suddenly brought back into reality when he felt someone bumping straight into him rather hard. Somehow, he managed to keep into his balance and saw a young woman just about to pick herself up. He could not help but notice that she was beautiful, and in one hand she was holding a phone – probably the reason why she’d not looked ahead. Well, unlike him, she did have a reason at least.
“I am really sorry”, he said, and meant it, offering her a hand. “Are you alright?”

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I really hope that's better now. Again, sorry for delaying everything.
Tags - Nazara