[b][center]Ramara And Regalia[/center][/b]


	Ramara sat there in the saddle and let the boy explode, listening to his outburst and not showing the smallest hint of emotion. He could speak of things concerning himself all he wanted but he assumed how she felt about her parents. That was foolish but with youth comes such foolishness. Assassins were not always of a stone heart and Paladins were not always perfect. It was something he would have to learn for himself in time; it was nothing she or Ishmael or anyone else could ever teach him, only life could. Life was a short journey for some, a long journey for some and even a longer for others; life was a cruel and compassionate teacher and only looking back on life could see clearly see the moments that were cruel and the ones that were full of compassion. 

	She could have told him all these things but she didn’t. A child lashing out in anger would not listen to one he had already prejudged, however incorrectly his judgements may or may not have been. She simply sat there and let him vent before her head snapped around and a smirk came to her lips. “Perhaps he is not a ghost after all,” she said before turning back around and looking before her as the expression on her face faded. Sometimes someone just needed a push to show courage; perhaps he had some after all. Or perhaps he was just a child lashing out about a memory. Only time could tell.

	Regalia was however not as silent or stoic as Ramara, pushing her horse forward she came up to the wagon and next to the child, eyeing him for a moment before shaking her head slightly. “Child, I would watch what you say. If she is as cold and heartless as you seem to believe she could have just ended your journey,” she said in a rather compassionate voice. “But she didn’t. Try not to assume that death means nothing to someone or that someone may hate their parents or even that a lifes path is not one worth the choice. All have their reasons, if you didn’t care you wouldn’t have had an outburst,” she said with a kind smile on her features as she slowly pulled back on the reigns and backed her horse up a bit to the back of the wagon before stopping and letting it stand there until it was time to move again.

	“I have to agree with her though, there is no honor for a parent to have their child die in a battle they are not prepared for just to honor them. Parents, well most, love their children. They want them to have better than they had; safer lives and less pain than they themselves endured. I am sure your father is proud of the choice you made to follow in his footsteps but perhaps, just perhaps he wanted better for you. That’s all I am saying. Take it or leave it,” she said before giving Inyatas hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance as they waited to continue. 

	"And Wade is correct, in the heat of battle you must fight for those beside you, because they will be fighting for you. Family is not always the people that are of our blood, but the people that will become your blood. Brothers and sisters forged in war, child found needing direction, a parent to look up you may have never had. Travels, on the road and sea, makes strange bed fellows but sometimes it gives you great rewards that gold and silver cannot measure," she said looking over her shoulder and at Inyata with a smile.