Five years ago

Baldassare observed Duncan sitting in his room with a glass of fresh blood. He watched the light in his eyes change several times showing the emotions he felt. The man stepped back to the shadows leaving the young Lord to his silent moment. Duncan stared at the flames dancing in front of him while lying lazily on a cushion pillow.

It all started before he even knew how to deal with it. He used to have a home. Unlike other homes, the one he had was cozy and warm. Anyone who visited them would notice it the moment he stepped inside; they had something everyone envied. His parents were reunited by love. They were great.

Colors were all he saw. The world was a place where he found salvation in everything he had done. His mother used to teach him many things they never taught them at school and warned him to keep it to himself. Sometimes, they would leave him home alone. He felt lonely and missing their touches, especially when he didn't see their smiles.