"You called her Araera."
It wasn't a question.
Alvaro leaned forward, closer to Haragh, who was sitting in the corner of a room where Gala was recovering.
His hazel-brown eyes probed into the old dwarf's pale green orbs with scrutiny. "I know what I heard and saw Haragh. The moment your eyes caught sight of Gala, you called her by that name." He told him with conviction.
The old dwarf sighed while diverting his gaze away from Alvaro's piercing eyes. "Indeed for a fleeting moment, I saw Araera in her. You couldn't blame me, Alvaro; your friend has a striking resemblance to Araera, whom I met here in Dhorndur fifty years ago." It was evident that Haragh was still a bit disoriented after crossing the bridge from death back to life.