The Last Story Told

Day 2

"Sorry, I have no idea." Falen said, guilt still washing over him.

Talakren waved his hand as if to let the answer through. "It's alright. Not like I'd expect you to." With this, Talakren walked off, putting his hand to his ear again, turning on the ear bud.

"Sorry about that. You were bothering me a bit."

"It's alright. I understand." The young male voice said as he could feel him smile.

For him, his smile would always infect him, and gift him one to him too. The voice, for him, was a counselor, though he never did figure out the male's real name. The least he knew is that it was based off of someone who likely lived far away. To be completely honest, it didn't really matter to him, as it was the only time he got to talk to someone or something that wouldn't lie to him.

He knew that Falen, despite his slightly warmer attitude towards him, would regularly tell falsities to him. Sometimes he'd wonder why he bothered talking to such a deceiving bastard, but in the end, he'd pretend to shrug it off and bottle his bitterness for later; this is why he would always speak to the voice. It gave him comfort, no matter how simple of words it might speak to him. Simply put: it was all that he truly had.

Though he rarely thought about it, he knew that his parents were dead. The funny thing about this is that nobody knew who they were, or where he was from. The single thing that everyone know about him was his piercing blue eyes, which was a physical trait that passed away many years ago, though for unknown reasons.

When it comes down to it, Talakren didn't think it mattered where he was from, for all he truly wanted was the comfort of some sort of living being. Before he really knew it, he found his knuckles hitting against a misfitting wooden door which belonged to the old, perhaps ancient, part of the dormitory.

"Come in." A gruff voice said from the other side of the door, ushering him in.