He was a fool.
Alpheo realized it with every step he took along the marble halls belonging to Sharjaan, his boots echoing faintly under the high-arched ceilings.
Fool. Fool.
He followed the trail Egil had left behind, a trail that was as loud as it was pitiful. Every servant he passed could point him further along, it was easy to pinpoint , the tall blonde one, they of course noticed him, swaying like a drunk, muttering curses under his breath.
It was a problem that he long had, Egil did not know how to disappear; he could only storm through the world like a cloud with lightning hidden inside.
And still, no matter how close Alpheo drew, it did nothing to lighten the weight on his chest. The guilt pressed down heavier with each step.
He should have realized sooner. He should have known.
