"A-And when I… I turned," Zayden's voice trembled, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Jack… He… took his own life with a dragger he always carried."
He blinked, trying to clear the blurry vision in his tear-streaked eyes. His head rested against Ren's lap, and he realized he was sitting on the floor—how he had ended up here was a haze, a tangle of half-remembered words and confessions. His body felt heavy, unsteady, yet somehow safe.
"And… even now," he slurred slightly, voice shaky, "when I… see someone fall… my body… it betrays me."
He buried his face closer into Ren's lap, a shudder escaping him. "I… I can't… save anyone… these powers… I don't deserve them," his jaw tightened.
Slowly, he looked up at the man who had been silently listening. When he saw Ren crying, his eyes widened. With slow, trembling fingers, he managed to wipe away some of the liquid running down his cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, surprised.
