Vira and Raivy went to Itara's funeral, held in a cemetery south of Medres. The scene was bitter, but they endured it. A year ago, Itara was supposed to be the substitute for Arbara—a reflection of the jewel as the villagers used to say.

Whenever Arbara had been away, people had gone to Itara. And, seeing the two disappear like that cut the tie that had bound the two villages of Medres and Madarma together. Raivy had seen the relationship develop over the years—how the two women had brought the two villages closer to each other, prospering in terms of social connections, marriages, trade—almost merging the two villages into one. But Itara was just a moon that sucked its light from Arbara. Without the sun, people would neglect the moon.

"Vira," said Raivy. "It is as if the two villages have died. Look at them—one mourning for hours, another about to die at any minute. They didn't look like that when my mother died. These two deaths have taken a toll on them... I am glad no one brought any of their children here."

"You call this scene a tragic one?" said Vira. "If you had tasted war, this scene would be laughable."

"How can war be any worse than what we are facing?" asked Raivy.

"This is nothing, war is everything. It may not make much sense. But, when you see all your friends, ones you have known for decades, dead or begging you to kill them to alleviate their pain, then you will realize what true despair is."

"Then I wish I never see it. If the death of a single person affected everyone this much, then what would it be like if I witnessed a war with my own eyes?"

"You ought to experience it. It is a natural process—no, it is the symbol of nature itself. Whether you like it or not, whether you run away from it for a thousand years or ten thousand years, it will always follow you—laughing at your clueless and futile struggle. Face war with your head held high, Raivy. If you cannot do so, you will never be able to lead Metzra—or yourself for that matter."

Everyone had gone silent once Erya and Oran reached the funeral—they were late because they had much to take care of. Erya was in front; she hurried to her mother's grave, decorated with white flowers.

"Mom... Mom," cried Erya, expressing her agony without paying attention to anyone.

"Erya, please calm down," said Oran. "You have been crying nonstop for two days now..."

"I don't care," said Erya. "Just leave me alone."

All the attendees, including Raivy and Vira, focused their attention on Erya and Oran. Raivy, however, was surprised when he looked at Erya; he did not recognize her. It had been ten years since he had last seen her. He had a hard time not looking her—not because he pitied her, but for a more obvious reason, a natural one.

It was at this point that Raivy's father, Javen entered the cemetery. He had always had a strong presence and loud footsteps that attracted the ears. While he came to pay his respects to the deceased, Javen's main focus was on his son. His expression conveyed a sense of both anger and grief.

Without a word, he grabbed Raivy by the shoulder with his left hand. Raivy, still unaware of who had grabbed him, naively turned his head—only to see a heavy punch heading toward his face. Despite his old age, Javen had a strong physique; he always said that a merchant had to be prepared for any surprises.

Raivy was about to receive bloody bruises and broken teeth from the punch, but Vira absorbed it with his palm—without moving an inch from the blow of Javen's punch.

"It is rude to make a scene at a time like this, Javen," Vira said with a smile. "And to punch your son in public on top of that..."

"Who are you?" asked Javen. He had never seen anyone stand up to him so easily... Just who is he? he thought.

"I am Raivy's friend, Vira. Your son found me in the forest, then treated my wounds before I could was about to die from blood loss, and here I am."

"A friend..." said Javen. “You are hiding something, Vira."

"Regardless of whether I am hiding something or nothing, go pay your respects to the deceased," said Vira. "Otherwise, your former wife will curse you from the skies."

Javen glared at Vira with a furious look, fiercer than the one he had entered the cemetery with. But, he returned his attention to Raivy.

"Raivy," Javen said. "Don't ever delay helping others. Look at what you have done. You have killed—"

"Father, you are mistaken," Raivy said, interrupting his father. "I talked to her and made sure that I cleared her agonizing thoughts about Mother. I am still unsure about how she ended up this way."

"Fine," said Javen. He then walked with the same loud steps, toward Itara’s coffin, reciting words that even Raivy did not understand.

How could a father like you, one who is this kind, be capable of torturing his dear wife? Raivy wondered.

Raivy had one more thing left to do: talk to Oran about the cause of Itara's death. He headed to where Oran was and requested a private chat with him; Oran obliged. Oran looked sad, but energetic – a queer expression.

"So, what was the cause of her death?" asked Raivy. "I am dead sure she no longer suffered from Arbara’s death after I left your house."

"Indeed," responded Oran. "After you left last week, she woke up and was much like the cheerful Itara I knew before your mother died a year ago. I spent a merry week with my family that I never dreamed to re-experience. Because of that, I really want to thank you for healing her—" But, Oran was interrupted by more people coming to the funeral, so he had to delay the talk.

"Let us meet tonight," said Oran. "I am sure you want to learn more about what happened. I also want to thank you for bringing my soul back to life."

“Alright."

Raivy returned to Vira, who had heard the discussion between the two thanks to his inhuman ears.

"So, you will meet him tonight?" asked Vira.

"Yes. We will approach him the same way we did Itara—I will call you to come in at a proper time. I feel his invitation to talk about Itara's death is just a disguise."

"Your feelings are growing more accurate it seems," replied Vira, showing that he already knew Oran's intentions. "But don't rely on them; they are like standing on a broken stick."

The duo did not return to the hut this time. Instead, they headed to Javen's house as soon as he was done with the funeral—it had been a while since Raivy had visited his parents. Also, Javen had forbidden Raivy from seeing him until he had helped Itara, though since she was no longer around the rule no longer applied.

The duo entered the house and sat down at a table with the married couple; each person had a steaming cup of tea in front of them. Raivy did not want to introduce Vira to his parents, but he had to soften the tension between them.

"Raivy," said Javen while taking a sip of tea. "I apologize to you and your friend for what I did in the cemetery. I got too emotional without knowing that you had already tried to treat Itara before she left this world... With that said, I want to talk to you about a matter I've had on my mind for a long time."

Javen put the cup back on the table.

"Both I and your mother," he continued, "and even Velica, wanted you to marry Erya. It's about time that you settled down... I don't see what purpose staying in the forest serves you besides making you sadder. You are not a person who is suited to living alone."

"Perhaps, but I am not living in the forest for no reason," said Raivy.

"Why do you want to avoid staying with us?" blurted Velica, her words were coated with anger. "We have been begging you to come back and live with us ever since you left, yet you keep hiding under excuses."

“Raivy,” said Javen. “Velica believes that you left the house because you could not accept her. I kept telling her that is untrue but she is not listening, please—“

"Is it because you cannot bear to see me as another wife to your father?" said Velica, interrupting her husband. "What have I done to you? Did I ever harm you?"

"No," said Raivy. “Please do not misunderstand me. Every person who is important to my father is equally important to me. I am not the kind of person who dwells in the past. I accepted you the moment Father informed me about you."

"Then why?" asked Velica.

"That is enough, Velica," said Javen. "If he still has certain matters to attend in the forest, then so be it. Every person has their own matters that no one should know about. That is, as long as they harm no one. Both Arbara and I instilled these values deep in his heart. But, let me come back to what I have been trying to discuss...”

Javen resumed sipping his tea, which was growing a bit colder.

"Velica and I—even Arbara used to find that Erya suits you," said Javen. "But, remember that our words are only an opinion and that the final decision is yours. Even as your father, I am not aware of all your thoughts and feelings. So, think deeply and don't forget that we will not blame you or hold anything against you for not following our advice."

That's it. He can't be the one who stabbed Mother... Itara must have confused him with another person. Raivy wanted to confirm these shivering thoughts, his heart wanted to shout them out, but he held them back.

"I will think about it," Raivy responded, "but now is not a good time to propose anything to her."

"Definitely," said Javen, letting out a smile. "Though, I must apologize again… Your friend had to sit through this entire family discussion."

"Apologize?" said Vira. He had his legs propped up on the table while he listened. "I am much closer to Raivy than you think. So, I am allowed to listen to all his family matters. Also, it has been a while since I have heard such a peaceful talk; my world lacks it, so I have enjoyed every bit of it." Vira winked at Raivy after finishing his sentence.

"Peaceful? My world?" said Javen. "Could you tell us where you had been living before?"

Vira, don't... Raivy thought.

"I was in a world of acute alertness... Where every friend, every relative, even your parents could stab you in the back. Trust did not exist. Yet, we still had to keep our heads held high, or perish in coffins."

"I have never heard of such a place...," Javen responded. As a former traveling merchant who had trodden into all corners of the surrounding town and cities, Javen felt a tingling curiosity. "Would you mind telling me the name of this place?"

Vira, please don't. Raivy could not interrupt Vira. It would be too obvious, Javen would catch it.

"It is called Metzra," Vira replied with a sly smile.

Raivy’s eyes grew large. Bastard.

"I see... That explains how you endured my punch," said Javen, closing his eyes. "Raivy, I am sorry. You will see what I never wanted to show you. I wished to take this to my grave and see you leading a normal life... Again, I am sorry."

Javen's face started to crack, then fell apart like shards, revealing another face... that of a young man in his thirties. Javen then stood up, walked to a wall in the room, and punched it. The entire wall fell from the blow, exposing a blue sword. Raivy noticed that the sword had a large blue jewel at the top of its hilt. The blue hue of its blade was unlike any sword Raivy had ever seen before.

"You realize what needs to be done, Vira?" asked Javen, grabbing the sword.

"Of course, let us finish this," said Vira.

"Father… what is going on?" Raivy exclaimed.

"Raivy, don't ask," said Javen. "It is not worth it. Keep your knowledge about what you will see to the bare minimum."

"Let us move away from the villagers," continued Javen. Then turned to Vira and said, "I suppose you respect that much."

"Fear not. Ignorance from the world we live in is priceless. I dare not harm that."

"The way you speak is different...," said Javen. "You are not an ordinary Metzerian, are you?"

"Correct. You have the eyes of an adept hunter."