He could only stop and watch as the girl practically jump from his arms and take off running towards the illusion of Faeyra. Surely, it was only an illusion. There was no way the figure before him could be real, no way that it could be the one their hearts had so desperately longed for. He was about to shake himself from the fog that clouded his mind and go to gather the little girl before she could be shattered by her disillusioned dream, when he saw her collide with the spectral form.

His eyes widened as he watched the tiny arms grasp the soft flesh of a real human neck, the gentle roll of real tears fall from the eyes of a perfect and beautifully real face, and listened to the sounds of the very real and familar voice. She was...real?

His mouth suddenly went dry, his tongue refusing to work as he tried to form any sort of words to reach out to the woman before him. He wasn't even sure what he should or could say to her. The had parted on less than agreeable terms and he could still feel the anger that had been in her gaze as she had turned on her heel and walked right out of his life.

But he had changed! Hadn't he?

He watched as the two shared in their special moment, a moment that he knew they had both so desperately needed. Would his moment with Faeyra go as smoothly? Would she even want to see him again or would he be met with disdain and anger?

Slowly, his tongue moved behind his lips as he forced them apart. "Lady Faeyra, could it really be you?" He wasn't even sure she would hear the raspy whisper that emerged from his throat. If she did, he was sure that all she would be able to decipher was the complete and total lack of confidence in his voice.