He went back there, where Amos and Albert were waiting for him. It was strange to think of those two as a unit, but they were.
Not only that, but they were also his soulmates.
Valentius didn't know what he was supposed to do with this piece of information. Should he consider it an opportunity?
For what? To be with someone so broken that an Archdemon had offered to bring them back?
Or maybe it was supposed to be a call to action?
That he, Valentius, was supposed to be with these two, and just with these two?
He didn't know. Nor did he care.
Bert was dead.
Bert, whom Albert might have even loved. He was dead and gone, and now everything was over with him.
"Oh, Valentius," Amos didn't call him Valentine.
The boy didn't know how to feel about that. Maybe it would have been easier to hate him had Amos always called him Valentine.
If he had bullied him. If he had made the sickness which had gripped Bartolomeo and Bert, something the Archdemon certainly had in him, obvious.
