It was twilight when life returned to the Vale King, illuminating his smile on the women. They shifted uncomfortably, all but Raven, though he made no effort to comfort them. It wasn't his fault Altair wasn't strong enough to defeat him. Altair was weak. Feeble to a fault. He had earned his right to stand forward, to exist before these women, before all of the Myriad Heavens.
From the time Altair Blackwood had accepted the Path of the Ninth Form, he had existed. Watching, feeling what he felt, feeling what he did, and more. It had stimulated his urge for power. So why couldn't these women see that? Why did they so deny his existence? He was Altair. A better version of the man, carrying all his memories and all his wants and needs. 'So why?'
