This time Bariyan lingered behind, watching carefully, a little sadly. He didn't understand, probably never would; didn't understand why he had to be protected, what he'd done to deserve this. Any of this. But all the questioning in the world wouldn't help him. He was too far away. Had missed out on too much.

He followed after Martin, silent for a while, eyes wandering through the gardens and taking in the quiet.

Then: "How old are you?" Bariyan wasn't sure if there was an answer to that. Martin was boy in his mind, looked like a child, but it was obvious that there was much more to him.