At this point, Xavier looked much more helpless than a homeless beggar. His skin had turned so pale, you could see almost all of his green veins. His eyes had sunken so deeply with dark circles around, and he could barely keep them open.
His lips were cracked and colorless, trembling as though even breathing had become a struggle. Sweat drenched his tangled hair and soaked through the tattered shirt clinging to his frame. Every rise and fall of his chest came with effort, as though his body was fighting to keep him alive. He looked very close to death.
The chains around him had burned so much that he was now used to the pain and couldn't even scream anymore; it was all torture, and despite all these pains, he couldn't die. One, because he was royal and was healing just enough to keep him alive, two, the witch made sure the chain wouldn't kill him.
