Samandriel frowned as he studied the young man in front of him. "To someone, you are everything," the angel replied in the D'angeline's native tongue. He shook his head. Either the boy was going to listen to him or he wasn't.
"Because you're rather obviously troubled. Because you're family whether you care to acknowledge that distant part of your heritage or not and even if you weren't, it is my duty to listen if someone needs it. Heaven has too long forgotten it's missive and even if just one tiny little insignificant seraph remembers and stands by it, then it's a start." He licked his lips and looked away, gaze shifting out the window for a long moment. "I was set over Imagination at the Beginning, Alcuin. I, at least, can hear and understand your story for the value it holds simply by being your truth. If it would make you more comfortable to hear mine in turn, I'd be more than willing to share it."
He opened his hand and offered it to the boy. "You are safe. I swear it."