Ceres was a small city, at least a large town finally building itself up. Glimpsing at the streets, Vincent could see people going about their business, although with care as more Faholgal soldiers patrolled the roads. He could see they were courteous, but it was always unnerving to have such figures nearby. It amplified that something was wrong.

The brown horse Vincent sat upon snorted with a shake of it's head, used to the brisk run from the army camp they traveled from. It was a good horse. Vincent stopped a few times for it to get something in it's stomach, but it often just stared at him questionably. But now they were still on a small hill overlooking Ceres, Vincent's discolored eyes surveying the area for a sign of Antonis. It was uncanny how the general just disappeared not a few minutes after Vincent left the camp. He was on the main road the entire time...and if Antonis had traveled on horseback, he would have surely seen him--

"Why did you follow me?" A voice rumbled behind. Vincent turned his head, looking over his shoulder to see the white dog leaning against a tree with crossed arms, an impatient expression on his face. Vincent frowned, pulling the rein gently to turn his horse towards Antonis.

"Isn't that obvious?"

Antonis turned his head, looking out to Ceres as though he owned the place. "It depends on what the obvious is. Many things have been out of hand recently...Many strange things." Orange eyes turned up to Vincent, making him feel small underneath them. "Didn't you consider reactions?"

Vincent was silent as he thought about this. "I've been living with 'reactions' ever since I came back. But I wouldn't mind if she were the last."

"...Fitting." Antonis tilted his head again and out from the bushes a dark wolf with golden eyes crept out, an intelligent gaze set on Vincent. The horse took a few steps back until Vincent placed a hand on it's head for comfort, staring at the Noble in surprise.

Follow me.

Vincent heard the voice, as though it were his conscious speaking just as the wolf turned away, walking down the hill towards a path. His brows lowered in concern, first to the wolf and then to Antonis. It was clear that the general didn't want Vincent here and he felt as though he should feel lucky for the dog's compassion. He gave a little frown to this thought before urging his horse forward, following the Noble to a building. After they were down the hill, Vincent turned to look back and didn't see Antonis.

They reached the building in a steady pace before Vincent got off his horse, leading it the rest of the way on foot. It was well away from the main town and reminded Vincent of a Post, but there was no one around. The wolf finally stopped a few yards from the main door, paused and looked back to Vincent. He noticed that the wolf seemed to want to say something but decided against it, moving himself to walk to the west of the building. Vincent waited until the Noble was out of sight before he took hold of the leather reins with both hands, looking to the building uneasily.

She was in there...and he had no idea what he was doing. Everything about this seemed like a bad idea. The subtle glances from Antonis and the wolf were clear signs of that. Was he doing the right thing? Perhaps it was for the best to...get it over with quickly.

Vincent led the horse to a rack, tying the reins onto the wooden log making sure it had water and enough space to roam a bit. After a few pats on it's neck, Vincent walked up the few wooden steps and entered the building.

There was light clanging inside the building as dishes and cooking utensils were moved and cleaned in the kitchen area just past the front room. The kitchen itself was blocked from the front doorway by a wall. A smaller door was the only opening to the kitchen, only allowing anyone from the front room view a small portion of the kitchen.

Debalora was cleaning the kitchen from the last meal. Everyone had finished eating and already left to do whatever daily routines they had. Debalora was left with the cleaning... as usual. She didn't mind it, though. Not only was she used to it, but it took her mind off of things that have been emotionally stressing her.

She had been keeping to herself ever since they reached town. Debalora would have liked to wander around the town's shops and see the area, but she knew that someone had to take care of everything. With Antonis and Murdoc gone, Debalora had to make sure everyone was on track; Tamil and Debbreh's random arguments and keeping Voltrick away from Debbreh when ever he was angry at her.. which happened frequently, especially since Antonis wasn't around.

There was also a growing suspicion around the town that kept Debalora away. Debalora had used her power to heal a soldier that had been stricken with fever. The soldier was so fearful of magic being used on him, he ran out of the room. What hurt Debalora the most was the fact that the soldier yelled and called her a witch after she healed him.

Vincent's steps were light as he slowly entered the inn. The smell of the fireplace in the main room, the gentle creaks of the wood under his feet, and finally the noises from the kitchen. Everything...it all brought memories of the Dragon Tavern on those quiet days.

The kitchen was in front of him, his eyes set on it as though he were drawn towards it, just barely able to see a figure inside working away. His steps became slower almost to the point of stopping as he came to the parted door, an unsteady hand lifting against it.

He didn't think. He was only afraid. Vincent's brows lifted almost painfully as the hand pressed against the door, parting it enough to reveal himself and to see inside completely.

Long white hair reaching to her back, head lowered as she cleaned near the sink. He suddenly saw her in their old home, pausing before turning towards him, as she did now.

Debalora had been wiping one of the plates she had been cleaning dry when she felt someone in the room just behind herself. She had heard the footsteps on the wooden floor, she had disregarded it until now, feeling somewhat different. Anyone else would have said something or had gone upstairs already... but whoever it was seemed to only be watching her. It was familiar almost. Debalora stopped wiping the dish and slowly turned to see who was behind her.

The sight in front of Debalora, forced her entire form to tense up in complete shock. For a half second, she would have believed it was Brandon, finally finding his way back to her. But Debalora quickly realized who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her innocently and silently, ...she of all people would realize it the fastest. The plate fell from her hands and crashed to the floor.

But the person in front of her now couldn't be real. Debalora had to have been dreaming, how can this man be standing in front of her.. watching her silently as he had so long ago when he was.. alive.

Debalora's features winced emotionally with her eyebrows raising sadly and her ears folding back as her lips lightly parted to say the one name she hadn't spoken or even heard in so long... "Vincent?"

The plate was disregarded, his eyes locked onto hers now as they stared at one another. Similar to Debalora's thoughts, this felt almost unreal to Vincent. She was so beautiful. His memories were mere misguided delusions against it.

Vincent's hand slid from the door lowering until his fingers took hold of the doorknob, as if it helped him keep balance. He couldn't help the relieved expression, eyes growing damp as she said his name. He made it...he finally found her.

"Debalora." he breathed, daring not to move in case he could possibly fall through the floor in this delicate silence.

Debalora's features winced further as Vincent said her name, her eyes beginning to dampen. He couldn't be an illusion, she heard him. The same comforting and loving voice which calmed and guided her.. said her name.

A weakened breath was quickly taken as she warily stepped towards the man in front of her. Debalora had to make sure this wasn't some dream. A dream where all of her cares and worries had left her, a dream without war or suffering and all who she had lost had come back to her... saying her name.

It only took moments before she finally reached him. The closer Debalora came, the more the person in front of her looked more like Vincent. The color of his hair and fur... even his eyes. After finally reaching him, swelled eyes looked into his as she raised her hand to touch him. Gently touching her palm to the side of his face. She felt him. "You're alive."

Vincent's cheek leaned against her palm, raising his own hand to press against her delicate hand, holding it there. Then he looked to her and a wry smile appeared, if not for trying humor.

"I never did say goodbye." he joked weakly before he thought better of it, taking her into his arms and held her close in an embrace. He leaned his head against hers, his maw pressed against her lower neck. Vincent took a deep breath and just for a few moments, he felt that everything was in it's right place. Things could make sense. All he had to do was be here.

But he never forgot what he did to her.

"I'm so sorry." he whispered tenderly, his eyes shut tightly in remorse. "I left you all alone. I'm sorry."

Debalora gave a weak chuckled laugh, soft tears falling down her cheeks. A loud sniff was made before wrapping her arms around Vincent to embrace him tightly. He was back. After all of these years, he's come back to her now as if he was the answer to all of her pain. It was too good to be true, she still wasn't sure to believe this wasn't a dream.

"You were always with me..." Debalora whispered and closed her eyes tightly. "I've missed you so much."

After a minute, Vincent laughed gently, pulling himself away as his hands cupped Debalora's cheeks. "I'm just glad to see you're alright. Pretty thing like you...What're you doing with the army?" he asked this if not in higher spirits than before, just glad that Debalora was well.

Distant footsteps were ignored as he lowered his hands to hers. "I have so much to tell you and by the look of things, so do you."

Debalora hesitantly released Vin as he pulled back, keeping a hand upon one of Vincent's as he cupped it to her cheek. She felt as if he were to ever let go she would lose that feeling all over again... but this was too real to believe that.

Her gaze never left Vincent as he spoke, giving a warm smile with his compliment. His voice alone, was the dream. She could talk with him forever, if only it meant he was truly with her and not a dream. "I'm doing what I can to help." She said softly. "But lately, ... I feel as if everything has.."

A large figure behind Vincent quickly caught Debalora's attention and forced her to look away from Vincent. Her eyebrows raised innocently as she saw who who it was. "Voltrick?"

Just before his expression could change for Debalora's explanation of her side of things, the name she called out in surprise caused his figure to stiffen. His eyes widened as the hand on his wife's cheek lowered slightly. It couldn't be...

Vincent turned around to see a large man standing in the doorway. He couldn't help but notice the scars etched in his fur, black fur like some dark omen. The man was gruff but as Vincent stared on he noticed the subtle traces of the boy he once knew.

"...Vol--" he barely said, his lips moving to the rest of the tiger's name. He never expected to see him again. Even in his second lifetime.

From Voltrick's point of view, he only saw Vincent's back with Debalora before him. With the joy seen on her face, he assumed it was Brandon who had found his way back to everyone. But as the mouse turned and the person revealed themselves to whom they truly were... time seemed to slow down.

Everything around Voltrick blurred out of reality as he focused only on the all too familiar face in front of him. The crackling fire, the wind outside, even Debalora's beautiful face had become insignifcant blurs.

This wasn't Brandon. The man who stood infront of him was the one person he admired most throughout his entire life, the man who he looked up to and was basically raised by. The man he fought for and would have died for so many times. The man who stood infront of him died a long time ago.

Vincent... Voltrick's eyes widened in shock and folded his ears back as he stumbed back toward the door. How is this possible? Vincent died in his arms over three years ago and now he stands before him. Voltrick refused to believe his own eyes as he blinked rapidly to blilnk away any illusion. But the image of Vincent standing before him never left.

Shame suddenly overcame Voltrick as he watched the image of Vincent stop himself from speaking and looked away with a saddened glare. A short moment passed before he winced his features and looked back to Vincent, still not believing that man infront of him was the same person who died in his arms years before. "How is this possible?" Voltrick barely said through heavy breaths. "If this is some sick trickery, I will see to it that its stopped."

Vincent's ears lowered to the grumble in Voltrick's voice. It was made abundantly clear that no one believed that he was here. Like some ghost. Even Antonis had given him such a look. But what Voltrick said made his heart sink to actually hear such violent words. It was understandable, though. He had glimpses of those last moments before he fell into a deep sleep where Voltrick held him so tenderly.

"Voltrick." he said once more, this time with more certainty. Vincent removed his hand from Debalora, turning towards the tiger almost carefully. "...It's me." He didn't know what else to say with that look Voltrick was giving him.

Debalora's eyebrows were raised sadly as she watched Voltrick's reactin to Vinnie, more so when Vincent turned to walk closer to him and leaving her to stand alone. She knew it had to have been hard for Voltrick, for both of them. Voltrick was there when Vincent died.

The tiger's body stiffened further when he heard Vincent say his name. It had to be him, it was his voice. He looked and sounded like Vincent, but younger. Voltrick's breaths became more burdened when Vincent confirmed it. Hardened features lowered, but soon softened and looked back up to the mouse who was approaching him. "Vincent?"

Vincent stood before Voltrick, looking up to him silently until a small smile appeared, bearing his teeth slightly and almost awkwardly.

"You've gotten bigger..." he commented, examining Voltrick as though he didn't know what else to say. But he remembered it was similar to what he had said the last time to Voltrick when he reappeared after nine years. How strange it all was. Then Vincent saw the distinct scar on Voltrick's neck, staring at it before catching himself, quickly looking away as a hand moved to the back of his neck, hiding the pained expression with a smile. "Hah...I'm...uh...I'm sorry this is so...sudden." he tried, knowing Debalora was staring at him from behind.