For all Soren could remember, Gideon's warm laughter and the easy curl of his smile had been one of the strangest yet most comforting things he had ever experienced.
It was the kind of warmth that made him feel both awkward and grateful at the same time, like standing too close to a fire. To anyone else's eyes, Soren was nothing.
Just a healer, a commoner, someone who had no status and prestige.
In the rigid hierarchy of the North, people like him were invisible, easily dismissed and often treated as if their worth could be measured by nothing more than their utility.
If it weren't for the shortage of healers, he would never have been allowed the chance to set foot in the North at all.
