He didn't understand because it wasn't time to understand. That was the truth of the matter, but even with Truth whispering deep within, Martin the boy, a breathing figure in Time, couldn't hear it well enough to understand himself. Instead, it was another unhappy Why? Another pulse of hurt, of feeling slighted by some mystery circumstance.

It wasn't supposed to be that way. He had to have been doing something wrong to feel as he did, he thought; he was supposed to have a happier life. Being a human was different. He didn't need to be remembered to do the right thing.

Only one life? Was that the way of it? The way Bariyan thought of it – at least, in this moment. He had to believe otherwise – the "he" who knew him. Who lived on after "life." This Bariyan didn't know yet.

So it's alright, isn't it? he thought, trying to comfort himself as he fell further behind in step, feeling a sharper, sharper tightness in his throat. It kept him from saying anything, so all he could offer was a closed-lipped sound, neither approval nor disapproval.

It's alright, he repeated again and again, coaxing himself off a rattled, nervous edge in his mind. He could catch up again, then, with a blank, mild smile etched on his face. Eyes forward. It's alright.