The look on the Ambroses' faces was that of astonishment. Freyja was shocked, she had always doubted the heritage of the boy her mate had taken in and cared for but she would have never thought that he could be next to royalty. Brian could hardly process what the crone was saying, he was wondering what the odds were; that he and his family had run to warrior's peak in need of a fresh start or that the boy he had taken pity on and had taken in despite Freyja asking him not to was an ancient's only child.

Freyja had always told him he had a soft spot when it came to the weak and helpless but he had only thought he was helping those in need. Now, he doubted that fate didn't have a hand in it. He asked himself questions such as: why had Nymra's strength failed her and made her find a town and why had Aurora's strength given out the moment she arrived at Warrior's peak; the same place he and his family had found refuge. Was it mere coincidence or was it destiny?.

Acacius sat in silence and wondered if he knew the woman he once called mother. It was so long ago that his parents had left him alone in this cruel world but he had at least thought he knew his mother but hearing the old crone talk about her now; he realized that he only really knew what the monks she gave him to had told him. No one really knew the ancient angel. Acacius realized maybe for the first time that his mother had been broken long before he was born.

For the first time, he realized that he wasn't responsible for her death, he might have been the last straw that broke the camel's back but he wasn't the one who took her laughter away. Thinking about it now, he couldn't recall ever living at Warrior's peak or recall a time when his mother laughed. From what he remembered of her, she would sit and be lost in her painting all day.

Now some of her paintings made sense to him; he could close his eyes and see the redhead male she constantly painted and the falling angel she painted at other times. He now understood why his parents might have been physically together but separated in soul and mind. Nymra wasn't just lost in her paintings, her mind was locked in the past. She might have never spoken to the boy but she cared for him and his father knew it.

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Looking back now, Acacius couldn't imagine what pain his father must have gone through; seeing his woman hurt and pine for a man long dead. Elijah had never complained, he would instead draw Acacius away from his mother while she was painting. Elijah would always remind Acacius how fragile his mother was and how she needed to concentrate on her paintings.

Acacius had never understood why she painted if no one ever bought the art and she never gave them away. In fact, anyone else was forbidden from touching them and they never had visitors anyways but even Acacius, her own flesh and blood was forbidden from touching the paintings.

He remembered a distinct memory when he had snuck into the airy room she made into her studio. He had snuck in to see his mother's latest creation as a curious child, he had successfully seen the latest painting and was about to leave when he heard footsteps, in a rush, he had fallen on and smeared his mother's latest painting. He had looked up at her very angry face. She had never struck him but on this day, she did and the curious child who ended up being carried out by his father had never forgiven her.

Elijah had comforted the child. To the young Acacius, it always looked like his father spent his entire life making up for Nymra's neglect of their child and the society at large. Whenever Nymra erred, Elijah was there to make excuses on her behalf and soon, excuses was what remained of those relationships.

Every one present within the walls of the crone's hut was lost in thoughts. While that was ongoing, Aurora was in a state of confusion; who was this Nymra of whom they spoke, what did any of this have to do with her, what connection did she have with Acacius, why was he after her, did he truly kill her parents, who was the old woman telling the tale?.

She looked around to see if she could get any answers but it was clear from the look on their faces that they wouldn't be of much help. Suddenly, the old woman said to her "I know you are confused, you have every right to be but I assure you this matter concerns you just as much as it does him and yes, time does heal all wounds. With time, even you will learn to live again". Aurora was shocked into silence just as the others have been.