Noctisardor Bypass teil vier

again he bowed before her wrath. how could anyone look upon him and see greatness? how could he still hold respect from others when he had not earned it from wylla? he had come here to speak with her and scolded her instead. he had felt the change in the discourse and had not changed its path.
mahler was silent through her words, keeping his ears upstanding for all of them.
and beneath the blackness there opened a small and hushed door, one that glowed with heavensglow perhaps on the other side. 
and through it even came despair. the true strength of what he had wanted to be their family, departing.
mahler stared at wylla, sluggishly attempting to reinvent his sense of planning.
his sense of finality.
"i should not have come to you about se — about vhat vas said," the gargoyle offered, at the last changing the bitter offering for one salted. "for that i am sorry." too late, as always.
he could not stop her. he would not ask. he did not deserve to ask, to beg. she would see it written into every inch of him.
the cough stirred to a rattle in his throat, and the graf was forced to turn away in shame from her much-loved face, shoulders quaking with the force of it.