"Amael… what exactly are you doing?"
Amael lay sprawled out on the grass beside his modest camp, arms tucked behind his head as if he had not a care in the world. He cracked open his silver eyes, the faintest trace of irritation flashing in them.
Of course.
Peace never lasted long.
He tilted his head slightly, staring at the figure that stood above him—a presence that shimmered like pale, untouchable light. To anyone else, the clearing was empty. But Amael wasn't just anyone.
"Don't you see it?" Amael muttered lazily. "I'm resting."
The figure shifted, his eyes narrowing.
Nihil.
The Holy Guardian of Eden. And not just that.
His father.
If Amael could even call him that.
"You lie there like some beggar abandoned in a forgotten forest. For what purpose?" Nihil's tone was cold.
Amael let out a soft, humorless laugh. "For peace, 'Father'. For rest. Because whenever I'm with you—or anyone else tied to Eden—I feel nothing but pain and annoyance."
