Chapter 524 – Warborn
Elijah sat there, head ducked down and buried deep within his trembling hands. His shoulder-length golden hair fell over his face.
And as they all looked at him, the Vaelgrim witnessed in real time how the golden luster of Elijah's hair began to shift. It started at the edges — whitening as if soaked in pale ink — then spread slowly to the rest.
In an instant, Elijah's hair was no longer golden. It was a deep, dirty white. Not the white of purity and beauty. The white of despair and pain and anguish so profound that his very existence had been altered by it.
Justicia watched it happen, her hand pressed against her mouth, eyes wide and still wet — witnessing the fall of a man who had done nothing in all his life but love her.
Yes. Love. His love for her had gotten him tortured by Idalia. His love for her had made him live a life of constant struggle, fighting toward her in a world where everything and everyone wanted a piece of him.
Elijah was not a nobody.
