Aster was sitting silently in his balcony, the night spring breeze blew his hair gently. Aster twirled his long, wavy hair, it had been a while since he cut his hair. His hair had elongated up to his shoulder, He forbade Tuskan to bring any barber to his room, because this hair… he didn't understand, but it became painful whenever he tried to cut it.
Aster sighed, he took a scissor that he had prepared himself, and then tried to cut his hair, but whenever the scissor touched his hair, his body would shiver, as if his hair had the nerve by itself.
"Forget it," Aster said. He put down the scissor and caressed the statuette of his grandmother, Saintess Celine of Great Arctyr. By feeling the statuette, he could imagine the face of his grandma, 'She had similar facial features like my mother, just… less intimidating.'
