Once again, the dark coal ears twitched and fell close to the young Russian’s skull. Jefferson could not be saved, for he had committed numerable sins. Among them, murder. Did this mean that Silas was damned to suffer forever? Could he not be saved, even though Jefferson had said that he could? "I’ve," the boy started, his voice faltering before he could continue, "I’ve killed someone." It was a past action he did well to forget, but it had been necessary of him in order to gain entrance into the clan. Perhaps that was why Inferni was such a sinful place; it had required Silas to do something unspeakable.
"Are you sure zhat I can save mineself?" How was he supposed to accomplish that? This man had struck strange emotion into the boys chest, but Silas clung to it. It had been quite some time since he had felt anything, and he would take this sensation even if it was a clouded mix of fear and pain.
As for the things Jefferson had done, Silas looked at the man no differently. Somehow, the young Russian felt as if he were on a similar playing field, though he had no way of knowing their worlds were nowhere close.
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