Drea's father's eyes were weary as he took a seat and ran his fingers through his thick beard. He leaned forward, his bright red hair catching in a beam of pale yellow sunlight. Specks of dust danced around his face as his hard eyes went from frustrated to exhausted. Drea took in a deep breath, feeling the anger inside her chest flickering from a forest fire into a small, dying ember.

"You are right," Her father said in a rough, deep voice. Drea took a step back and tried to remember exactly what she had just yelled at him loud enough to tussle his hair and bring tears to his eyes. Her chest suddenly tightened and she felt a deep stinging sensation in her gut: regret and guilt.

"I'm sorry Dad."

"No," he said forcefully. "Drea, you are right. You are a terrible student because I am a terrible teacher." Drea felt an immense empathy for this broken man who never asked for this. He didn't choose to fall in love with someone as powerful as her mother and he never planned to lose her so early in her life. She was being unfair.

"It's okay," she said taking a seat as all the anger had sizzled out of her. "I know this isn't easy for you either."

Drea's father turned his head to the side thoughtfully, a small smile forming on the corners of his mouth. He got to his feet and walked towards a sword that hung on the wall. It was beautiful, with a pale white, sharp blade and forest-green embellishments across the sides. Drea knew her father had used it to kill many people, yet that did little to diminish its beauty.

"Long ago," He said, "I was a lost young soldier roaming the countryside with nothing but anger and hatred in my heart. I did a lot of evil in that time. A lot of good too... but the deaths... the choices I made..." he trailed off and Drea sat perfectly still, afraid any disturbance would take her father out of his trance and he'd retreat from his memories like he usually did.

"Your mother," He continued with a glimmer in his eye, "Saw something in me. She was wise, kind, but had this flame inside her soul." he nodded to Drea with affection, "The very same flame she gave to you. I know that." He sighed deeply. "Wars mess with your mind. Guilt erodes your soul. The past haunts you. You think the pain is left on the battlefield, you think your actions only matter as long as the war rages on but..." his eyes wandered lazily across the room and towards the open window. A summer breeze swept through his hair and beard and he took in a long deep breath. "But the actions follow you, like shadows. Whispering truths about you in your ear. Always reminding you that no matter how much good you do, you will never make up for the bad."

"I'm sorry Dad," Drea said, not sure what else there was to say. "I know you had a really hard life."

"I am a bull," Her father laughed, "I approach everything horns first. I'm a talented fighter and sometimes feel like I can slow down time, but I'm not delicate." He nodded to Drea. "Your powers are precious, like crystals or stone. They need nurturing and patience. Your mother would meditate for hours a day and study just as much. She was more intelligent than I can ever hope to be. I'm afraid I cannot teach you."

Drea's heart sunk and tears flooded her eyes.

"No," she sputtered, "Dad, please. I didn't mean what I said. I take it all back. I'll listen more I'll-" she could feel the desperation hugging her tightly, suffocating her. Her father pulled her into a hug and the pain eased.

"My dear," he said, "I don't mean I'm giving up on you. What I mean is I see now that I don't have the knowledge or the tools to teach you properly. But I know where we can go where people can." Drea's cried into her father's shoulder but nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Are we going to go there?"

"Yes," her father said with the comfort only a father can offer his child. "We will go together and stay together. You are my heart, my family, my life Drea. Where you go, I go. You are all that matters."

"How long will it take to get there?" Drea asked softly. Her father held her at an arms length, his eyes creasing with a smile.

"About six months," he said and Drea's pale blue eyes widened, "What do you say? Are you up for an adventure?"