I wake up slowly. What a night. I barely slept. I pull my hair back. I was hoping it all would have been a dream. Where have you been? I wanted more than anything for you to come back, but now... it just feels like fog. It just seems like a bad dream where I awoke. I move my hand up my chest. 

"Why have you so many scars?" I hear.

I jump.

"Jeez Althael!" I grimace.

"You don't have to call me that." He says.

"It's the only way I know how." I say.

I look at him.

"Have you been there this whole time?" I ask.

"No. I just came back." He says.

"Yet you

"What have you been doing these past thirty-years?" He asks.

"Why do you care?" I ask.

"I care about you." He says.

"Hah! Right." I say.

"Your scars, I taught you to fight." He says.

"You taught me how to fight with a stick. I had to learn a sword by myself, one of the many things I had to do." I say.

"Are you... I'm sorry." He says.

"Again, Althael, let's just get this over with so we can go our separate ways." I hear the door knock. 

I grab my shirt.

"I'll get it." He stands up from the chair.

"I-" I start.

He opens the door.

"Quirin." I say from afar.

"Hector, we need to talk." He says.

"I don't want to talk about Althael." I point at him.

"No, no. Not that. You training my son." Quirin says.

"I haven't agreed to it." I say.

"I think you should." Quirin says.

"What?" Me and Althael both say.