Yorian remained by Oriana's side, offering his presence as a source of comfort. However, deep down, he knew that there was little he could do to alleviate the pain that weighed heavily on her. It would be a while before the anguish stemming from another's suffering would release its grip on her.
"You should rest," Yorian gently suggested, but received no response from her. All Oriana could discern was the heart-wrenching sobs of that young boy, and she could keenly feel the intensity of his torment.
Yorian decided to give her some space, tenderly cradling her trembling form as he moved her to the bed. She reluctantly released the fleeting comfort she had derived from his presence and curled up on the bed. Her grip on the bedsheet was fierce, causing it to tangle and crumple.
In that moment, Oriana was not herself. She had become one with the boy she witnessed in her vision.
