Gasping for breath, Azeal woke up flailing his hands. Feeling as though someone tried to strangle him; removing the breath that his lungs desperately begged for. Fighting harder and harder, but no matter his effort, the suffocating continued. He attempted to scream, yet no voice would come out.

Afraid, Azeal struggled with all his force against the invisible foe. Only to hear the tearing of cloth. And with it came the reprieve he had desired. Finally, his lungs basked in the presence of air. Taking his time, he reacclimated himself, trying to understand where he was.

His was in a massive bed, as though they had made it for his size. As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed the overly decorated walls and unnecessary drawers. Though the room was gargantuan in size, everything inside it was made for him to use, making it smaller then it appeared. Curtains were draped on the wall to add design, while a set was used for the windows. They were partially opened, letting in a bright beam of sun. Creating images in Azeal’s eyes.

It was then that mirage took place before him. Even though he saw through it, the images were too realistic for him to deny. A room filled with light and happiness. He sat there as he watched a woman danced in the rays of the sun. Adding beauty to what he had always thought to be without a match. Oh, how she glowed, an angel given physical form.

But as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished without a trace. Leaving Azeal begging for more even though he understood that it was in the realm of the impossible. This was a last reminder of his wife. Of the one he had lost while he held her in his hands.

“Reinala, I miss you so much.” He whispered quietly, reminiscing a time he honestly thought heaven had deemed him worthy of its visit. He closed his eyes, hidden behind his stoic helm, hoping he could get one final glimpse of her.

“Whose Reinala?” A quiet voice asked, startling a somber Azeal. His eyes wide, though no one would have noticed, he swirled his head to find the owner. His muscles tightened, ready to defend himself if necessary, only to see the little girl he had saved sitting on a chair that was apparently not meant for her.

She laughed innocently at frightening him, taking enjoyment in startling others, as children are wont to do. Enjoying herself a bit too much in his mind. But, nevertheless, he smiled at her antics. Who wouldn't when such a pure child found it peaceful enough to laugh in a world filled with misery and death.

But, as he did so, the smile slowly fell away. His Emotion Sight flared to life once again, trying to find solace in the existence of the white hope before him. But as the lights began to shine, he closed his eyes, demanding the skill listen to his will. He wanted to keep the memory of his wife for as long as realistically possible. He felt it fight, wishing to show him the wonders that hid behind the veil of reality. But, he would not allow it.

After a few seconds of silence and struggle, he opened his eyes once again. He had forgotten how gloomy the world was before his sight had been opened; removing the curtains. He watched the world in its dull colors. No brightness shining, demanding his attention.

He looked at the little girl, there he finally really saw her. Though he had seen her before, he had never truly looked at her features because of how demanding the orb of white hope stood. Now, it was gone, and only her regular features remained.

She was gaunt-faced, skinny as a stick. An apparent victim of starvation if there ever was one. Her face almost skeletal, if not for her puffed cheeks. With wide eyes, a tiny and perky nose, and her white hair, she looked the epitome of cuteness than a child grown in suffering and loss. A testament to her beliefs. Azeal smiled at the little girl, whose name he had yet to ask.

“Reinala was my w.. wife. The mother of my child.” His voice broke as he finally said it. His wife, the mother of his child. As he watched her, a flash of interest appeared, breaking the final barriers Azeal had in speak to her of such matters; things so close to his heart.

“What happened to her? And your child, where is he?” She asked, oblivious to his inner pain.

“My wife died long ago, giving birth to my child, and he was separated from me. Circumstances beyond what I can stop broke us apart.” He looked away, it hurt speaking of it. Of the incident that brought him to this world. But, as he did so, the little girl got up and jumped onto his lap. Grabbing his helm, she looked into his eyes, the intensity she showed was something he did not expect. He was utterly entrapped in their stare

“Mother told me, when my father left us, that though he might never return, he would wait for us in a lovely place. Now, mother is with him and waiting for the day we all come together again.” She jumped off him and began to spin on the floor with her hands raised above her.

“You have to always be happy because you will meet them in that lovely place too. And maybe I can tell Father and Mother all about the big monster that saved me!” Laughing, she ran towards a large door that had been closed. Struggling, she barely opened it only to find Harold standing in front of it. She rushed towards him, but instead of crashing into him, she nimbly dodged his stationary body and ran out of the room; laughing, all the while, wildly.

“She has more energy than anyone has the right too,” Harold spoke, hoping to get Azeal’s attention. But, that would be a task he would not be capable of. Azeal was still stunned at the wisdom that came from a child no older than twelve years old.

As he continued to stare at where she had been, Harold walked in front of him and grabbed his shoulder. Speaking in a voice that demanded a response, he said, “Azeal, I have a question that needs to be answered.”

He looked into Harold’s eyes, noticing a tint of worry in them. ‘Was he worried at what my answers would be? Or is it something else entirely?’ Azeal thought to himself. Hurring he affirmed the request with a firm “Okay,” hoping none of the pain and suffering he endured slipped past his stoic facade.

“Wonderful,” Harold responded as he sat down on the chair the little girl had been seated in.

“ I hope that you can trust me and answer me truthfully. The question now, do you know how much a gold coin is worth?” Azeal, stared into Harold's eyes, thanking whoever had a hand in fate for the helm that covered his face. He felt incredibly nervous being questioned by Harold, who held himself in a strict and noble demeanor. Even though he considered lying, how would he prove that he knew the answer to that question if Harold asked the right question next? So he played it safe.

“No, I do not.” Sighing, Harold looked resolved to the fate he had. “Well, it was quite obvious from the beginning, wasn't it?” Azeal was about to reply, but Harold just continued on, not expecting an answer.

“You see, a single gold is worth a thousand silver coins, and ten thousand copper coins. You spent five gold coins on a pure child when you could have bought a grizzled veteran instead. But, they were yours so you could spend them any way you will.”

Azeal stared at him for a while, considering he did not condemn slavery. He tried voicing his opinion but was stopped by Harold who raised his hand as he got up.

“It's okay. You don't need to explain yourself. My house and I will support your decisions if they make sense,” He looked towards the door, and to where he had almost crashed into the little girl. With a voice suddenly filled concern, he looked back towards Azeal,

“Just don't fall down a dark path. Come to me if you need to speak, I will be at the Great Hall, dining with the Franks and speaking of our accommodations.” Turning around he walked away with a brisk pace, as though he was anxious to leave.

All the while, Azeal sat there dumbfounded by how quickly he had come and then left. But, nevertheless, it was good to finally be left alone. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally get a last glimpse of her. And even if he could not, he would have the time available to try out the Mana he had felt during his change of personality. If nothing else, the only good that came out of that incident was making him familiar with the feeling of Mana coursing inside and around himself.