Thomas stood in front of Iris, his blue eyes radiating serenity, and the clothes he was wearing looked much more dignified than Morgan's. He wiped the sand on his silver sword and brought the sand to Morgan's wound.
"You," Morgan said, in disbelief. He felt the tightness in his chest disappear and his numb arm began to improve, the black color slowly starting to fade. "Brat, you are back?"
As Thomas helped Morgan to his feet, he glanced at Iris, who was still in a state of shock. The man moved and hugged him tightly.
"You are okay? Sorry for making you wait so long." In a very soft voice, Thomas muttered in Iris' ear. He inhaled the rose scent from the witch's body and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Is it you?!" Iris blinked her teary eyes. She touched Thomas' face. "It is you!"
Thomas smiled, he nodded his head and took Iris' hand.
