"...!" "Hello again, my dearest familiar. Helping out with another task, I take it?" "Er... yes. Just picking something up. (What am I suppose to do around him?)"
How much did Azem know already?
It's a question the Warrior of Light—Hiroc Strongblade— pondered, as he stare at the man he supposedly splintered off from. A familiar, intimately so, yet altogether overwhelming gaze bore right into him in return.
They don't often meet. He could count the number of times they did on one hand, and by accident too. Or was it all a coincidence?
Whenever they did, he wouldn't know how to proceed. Even if the timeline remain intact, it did little to prepare his heart at seeing him.