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Nithel could see the struggle in Alessio and was sorry. *wants to explain, very badly… if he could… *

Nithel then nods, and a smile touches his lips. A sadness filled his eyes as well. “I have two daughters, a son, and the last time I saw my wife, we were expecting another.” I have not met them yet. “My elder daughter is about your age.”

Nithel nibbles on his lip, looking down. Hesitantly, he looks up, from Mayra to the boy. “Alessio… I have not been here for over twenty years, I believe. And when I awoke from this place, it was hard to tell if it had been real, or was just a dream. When I woke up. But this strap-” Your strap. Nithel touched it, pulling on it a bit, before dropping his hand, “Showed me it was not all in my mind.” Nithel’s chest ached as he looked at Alessio, and then the girl.  “I remember vauguely. I remember faces, the feelings attatched to them, more clearly now.” He holds both their gaze’s a moment, then looks at the walls and ceiling, before looking back at them. He fingers the hilt of his sword, thinking.

His eyes have lowered as his shoulder lifts slightly. His forehead creases with wrinkles, and his voice sounds more lost than he would have liked. Everything rushing his mind, his home, the war, his missing son… “I just don’t know anymore.”

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@joelle-stone @this-is-not-an-alien @irishcelticredflowercrown @millennium @denali-christianson @skylarynn