Basil closed his eyes, his throat astringent. It was too late.
Basil had not always been like this. When he was much younger, he had a lot of hopes and dreams, he had always wished for those who hurt him to apologize to him, it was supposed to make him feel better. He would forgive them, but they had to apologize first to him, apologize for all the bad things that they had done to him. He longed for their remorse and apology, craved it even but it never came.
Basil had always wanted the light elves to accept him as one of their own. When he had reached eighteen years, he had chosen to be a healer, hoping that by healing people, the light elves would see him as similar to them, as equal but that was just a fool's dream.
