Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[55 - lessons; unknown understandings]

Soren had left as soon as he had finished saying his part, tired and exhausted from the tumbling words that had escaped his lips. Nobody stopped him — they could not, when he hadn't spoken a single lie.

It was stagnant in the room. Even Raphael, who suggested the conversation, was surprised at the emotions that bounced around in the firing speech.

But he was happy. That the bottle whose lid had been firmly tightened finally was wrenched off. The protagonist moved to follow Soren outside. 

"Raphael."

Raphael stopped, turning to stare at Vincent with some pity. The latter looked utterly confused, brows knitted together and lips etched into a frown of pondering frustration. 

"I don't understand." said the man in a low tone, somewhat helplessly.

And this was the first prince's greatest weakness.

He did not posses the ability not the personality to know how to get along with his siblings. But this prince was also one who sacrificed his very identity for the freedom of others. Vincent was not a terrible person, or Raphael would not have befriended him as such.

Neverthless, there were wrongs to be made right, and plenty of learning to do. And Raphael, unfortunately, was much more interested in helping another sibling that was not the first prince.

Raphael spoke slowly. "If you don't understand," he smiled vaguely. "Isn't it time to learn, Vin?"

His words lingered in the air as the door closed, leaving behind four conflicted men. 

"We were in the wrong." said Deimos finally, taking a deep breath. "We always were, and we have no right to stop him from leaving."

"I had no intention of stopping him." muttered Vincent with a scowl. "I never intended to restrict his freedom."

"Well, brother," Deimos stared right at the eldest through tired mint eyes. "As Sir Raphael has said, it's time to learn. Exactly how you've impacted him. How we all did, in terribly devestating ways."

"You weren't much better, Deimos." said Erlen through gritted teeth, though his mind burned and gaze blurred with thoughts of self-blame. 

Atlas sighed, interrupting them all. "At present, it is best we do not argue. Is that understood, brothers?"

"...yes." murmured Erlen obediently, taking a deep breath to cool his head.

Vincent was the first to turn around. "I will deal with the matters at hand first, before we discuss a solution."

"It isn't time for a discussion, I'm certain you understand." said Atlas at the broad, lonely back of his eldest brother. "If you want to understand everything properly, what do you think you should do? We all have our own parts to make amends for."

Deimos slumped where he stood. "You were in a coma, Atlas. There is nothing you must amend."

The other tilted his head in confusion. "When I was younger, I could not give him the love he desired and so needed. Now, with my own eyes I can clearly tell, how he's grown up faster than he should. It's an awfully tragic thing, when a child must grow up sooner than they need to."

Atlas had observed from the side, unable to say anything. Because in truth, he was in the wrong too. The prince was never a social person, prefering the confines of his room wrapped in pure logic and planning, but in doing so, he had neglected Soren.

Unlike Deimos' gentle nature that took in everyone's feelings to a personal extent, Atlas's calmness was in his observation.

Prior to his coma, he hadn't recognized the neglect. It was only after waking up and staring into those unfamiliar icy eyes, devoid of any love and warmth, that he understood.