When Muren was escorted out of the dungeon, Airen went along with the soldiers, utterly worried about her husband.
Meanwhile, Toren remained standing still in front of his brother's cell, staring at what he became now.
It was completely different from the brother he once admired and loved.
The Coen he is seeing right now is full of spite and vengeance that his aura had shifted into an eerie, dark, and flowy spirit. The ones that were filled with black tinted emotions.
Toren felt a bit intimidated, but kept in mind that the young man behind that cell was a person he once depended on.
"Why are you doing this, brother?" Toren asked whisperingly. "You are making it hard for father and mother. You know how much you are needed, especially during these hours."
Coen slowly turned his head towards his little brother, piercing him with his bloodshot eyes and swollen sockets. His dried, chapped lips were pale and exhausted.
"You are the traitor," Coen spitefully spat as if each word contained poison. "And you know damn well what I am talking about. You knew what you did, yet you acted so innocent and clueless. Feigning a good act to gain father's approval. You are even using your death right now to put on a show. Until when are you planning to trick your father and pretend that you were not the traitor?"
Toren was surprised at first with Coen recognizing his presence as a ghost, but figured that it must've been part of his "selective omniscience" or that mother might have given him the ability to.
Toren shook his head slowly. "You are the last person I expected to accuse me of betrayal. You know how much loyalty I have put in this country! Ever since I became part of the organization, I have never once thought of breaking the oath."
Coen glared at him sharply. "Do you know what it means to be loyal and what it means to be a soldier?"
Toren only stared back at his brother, sucking on the answers that lingered across the silent air.
Soon, the soldier that was guarding his cell had returned and noticed Coen having what seems to be a decent conversation between him and an invisible entity. The soldier thought that the prisoner must be having fits of hallucinations out of massive stress from being imprisoned, but he had never felt the soul that Coen was talking to.
That despite his death, he resisted the light bridged at the world where deceased people go. Later on, Toren returned to the En family's house and stayed inside the secret room underground.
There, he slept on his bed and tried peacefully making amends to his own thoughts – those which poke around, bothering him perpetually.
Meanwhile, at the camp where Muren is, his wife was laid down beside him, quietly and almost magically sleeping.
Looking closer now, Muren thought that his wife must be some kind of a supernatural being as she seemed to have never grown old.
Her face would not age and her beauty stays like a curse.
At the dawn of day, Muren silently slipped out of his bed and sneaked out through the rear part of the camp.
The ground was a solid stage containing several sharp rocks, a variety of stones, and other debris.
He walked round and round at a limited space, subtly kicking the stones, singing softly with his struggling breath and constantly looking up at the blank sheet of sky.
He pondered about his life.
And for once, it was during that nightfall when he decided to slow down.
He had always been so tense because of his position as a leader of a vital rebellious group, making him eternally over the edge. Things must start from him.
When he was denied entry after the colonist's blockade of the west area, he began going mad from that point. He was angry and frustrated and humiliated.
He built an empire, slowly nourished its pillars, sidetracked with the beauty of love, beget children, and got swayed by a baseless prophecy.
Why is it that the most important moments in life were relinquished as distractions and the childish and crossfire events were regarded as the meaning of his life?