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The child of ivory and ice stood there, still as a statue and Adrastos Morpheus simply stared back into a face he had long ago accepted he would never see again. That she did not speak first unnerved him, why did his daughter, his only living child, say nothing in the face of her father? Slate eyes searched for some answer, and Adrastos was suddenly aware that the girl could probably recall their parting words. The crazed man who had so stoically led her on a march across the lands, saying little until they reached the ghost child receptacle known as Clouded Tears. There his hard exterior had cracked and crumbled under the scrutinizing eyes and words of Laruku Tears and Adratsos's own replies has been hasty and hateful, desperate and deplorable.
Yet so much time had passed, that was so long ago, Adrastos could scarcely believe his words still rang true in her head or that she could even remember them. The girl had been a child then, a small trusting thing, following her father—the hero of her heart—without question only to be passed off like unwanted goods. Now, now the creature that stood before him made him dizzy with feeling. It wasn't just his daughter that stood staring at him. It was his mother, his sister Laika, and countless others that could call the Sadira bloodline their own. Though her eyes were a paler color than that of his mother, he could see the ghost of the matriarch in her features. He wondered how many times over the years had his little girl had to content with a dead grandmother?
The slow steady pace of his heart quickened with each second that passed between them. Someone had to speak, someone had to say something. Almost Cer, her pet name, her love name. Who but those who knew her best could call her that? Yet the old man knew he knew her not at all and had no right to use such endearing names. Almost Ceres but it would have been a slip of the tongue. Always he had loved his daughter best, because he had loved his mother best, but when Lyla had died, who too had looked stunningly like a Sadira queen, he couldn't face anymore blue eyes, snow faced females.
The girl swallowed something hard and Adrastos' heart skipped, waiting for the words that surely would follow the clearing of the woman's throat, but nothing came and soon enough he felt something drop like a rock in his stomach. All of a sudden it was her shoulder, then her side, then her tail end as the child was fleeing from him. Slowly, but surely. Just as suddenly as she had appeared and stared at him for what seemed like a stretching eternity, she left and her movements seemed to work in the same slow motion as their gazing at one another. For long years he had felt nothing—no remorse, no sorrow, very little guilt and certainly not happiness or joy—and now he felt panic. She was leaving.
"Cercelee!" Like a magic word the silence was broken between them, whatever strange spell that kept them unable to speak shattered and the girl, who had really only moved two feet away turned her head over her shoulder, but did not bother to turn her body and truly face her father. "Wait." And she only looked at him, her cool eyes chilling him though they held no particular clues of disdain, only a dull curiosity as to why this man might be calling her back five years later. "Please." The pleading in his voice surprised even him, but it worked, and his little girl turned her body and set her stony face to him.