[center][img]https://imgur.com/XShqxhB.png[/img]
[h1][u]Elys Adair[/u][/h1][/center]
[i][color=gray]Oratorio, //O3 - The Underpass[/color][/i]
[@ERode]
[hr]

This nauseating, unfair city.

The Underpass was a trial all on its own, forcing any with a weak heart back from whence they came.

Elys walked in the darkness. A spiritual darkness as much as she had to assume it was a physical darkness. The masses all congregated together, nearly piled on top of one another in the cramped passageway made the way forward clotted with slow progress.

The sounds. The feral, desperate screams. The sounds a person at the end of their wits, descending into feverish madness makes, the sounds of the desperate, ignored, and dying.

It shook the very foundation of a soul to listen to.

And she, blind as she was, had to push all these desperate cries out in order to move forward. To ignore them like the ones before her had.

What was the point of a sense of justice, in the face of such appalling injustice? These people, these [i]human beings[/i] had as much right to life as she had. Yet they were considered less than animals, ignored here. The Royal Road happy if those here would simply suffocate and die peacefully.

It was an ugly side to the city that Elys hadn't prepared herself for. She had only seen a fraction of such injustice the night her home was burned down. This… 

This was too much.

She couldn't ignore this, could she?

Another step forward, her staff tapping a way clear ahead. Little by little, her heart was dying, dragged down into the screams and hopeless unrest found here. Another step forward.

Was that all she could do? Simply move forward?

Surely, she could do something. [i]Anything.[/i]

Especially if she was meant to serve these people.

Elys’ lips flattened into a determined line. She was too aware of her own empty pockets. She had nothing to give these people. Nothing except her words. Her soul.

Following the tormented screams falling from hoarse lips, Elys moved down the passageway until the screams were much louder. Right in front of her. A hesitant hand. 

Could she even do something?

Well.

It didn't really matter, did it? Something was better than nothing, after all.

So her hand reached out, gently brushing against the shoulder of the one who cried out coarsely, before gently patting them, holding the shoulder firmly.

[b]“Why do you cry like this? Don't you know you are seen? Don't you know you are loved?”[/b]