Drust returned Ghent's promise to take care of the OmniChrono with a grateful grunt and slight nod. But he didn't rise to the unspoken inquiry in the boy's tone. He stared at the fire, momentarily lost in thoughts of the past. Sensing Ghent's gaze on him, he glanced to the boy. He paused, taking in the way Ghent looked him over. The Knight tensed, his expression darkening as he realized the reason behind the closer inspection. Ghent had [i]just realized[/i] the Knight wasn’t human. Drust's neck twitched and his lips pulled down in a half-snarl as he looked back to the fire. Ghent’s imperceptiveness knew no bounds. If that didn’t change, it could mark the boy’s—or even his companions’—downfall. “I remember, boy!” he snapped, his voice harsher and louder than he had intended. Elayra shifted again, muttering in her sleep. Drust grit his teeth and looked back to the fire. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, struggling to keep the pulse of the Curse from raging through him. “Our memories begin the moment we’re created.” Though a hard edge clung to his voice, he lowered his volume and forced his thoughts from Ghent’s obliviousness. Focused on the answers Ghent sought. “I am a White Knight. Black and White Knights of the palace were never given any other racial name. We were created with the sole purpose of being warriors. Loyal protectors of the White Rule.” Opening his eyes, he looked to his hand, the flames tinting it with their golden-red light. He clenched and unclenched it as he continued, the severeness in his voice slowly easing. “As for ‘special abilities…’” He paused. It had been years since he last had to explain what he was. It felt almost odd doing so now to someone who knew so little. Even Elayra had had an idea of what he was, what he could do, by the time she worked up the courage to ask more. “We're designed to be near-perfect warriors. I’m far stronger and faster than any human. I need less sleep and sustenance to function and survive. My stamina and senses are heightened. I can withstand more extreme temperatures longer. I heal quickly from any non-magic wounds, and age much slower than humans. The Knights’ skills in combat are unparalleled. Only vinifcium have ever grown to nearly rival us in physical battle.” His lips twitched upward from unspoken memories. The expression quickly turned bitter. “But we’re weak against magic. Without any countermeasures, a simple attack spell can deal massive damage. As we were created by it, so, too, can it kill us. Typically, we even lack the ability to command it. We’d pose too much of a danger to ourselves. I was a rare exception, capable of accessing it.” He took a moment to take another breath, trying to not let the the reason why everything had changed creep heavily into his mind. “We can only be created in the Chamber of the Heartstone in Heart Palace. And only by a vinifcium.” He glanced toward Ghent as he continued, “[i]I[/i] am the result of your father’s first attempt at creating a Knight. That was nearly thirty-five years ago.” A grim smile pulled at his mouth. “But Knights aren’t created as infants. We’re created old enough and with the basic knowledge and abilities to be the warriors we’re designed to be. I was told I looked somewhere around seventeen.”