Brandon stopped outside the large hall, his eyes low. He knew Conaan would be behind it, and at this moment, Conaan was the one person he did not think he had the guts to see. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he finally brought his hand forward, then tapped the door a little silently.

The answer did not come, and pushing the limits of his courage, he turned the knob, and opened the door.

He took a step forward, and raised his eyes. Conaan was sotting in his usual arrangement of padded pillows, the same bloodied archery suit still on his, his face only cleaned off to a barely acceptable...