We Are Not Ready Yet

Azreus turned around as he looked at this frail old woman standing before him with a bent back and worn-out wooden stick in her hand.

Her face was filled with wrinkles, her nose was pointy and crooked, and her hair a pale white. Her overall appearance would make anyone think that this old woman already had one foot in the grave.

And seeing her frail and short smaller stature in front of this tall, muscular man only made her seem even tinier.

Azreus pulled back his hood as he stared blankly at her and said, "It has nothing to do with you, Xona."

"Nothing to do with me?" Xona asked with a frown as she pressed her finger against his chest and said vehemently, "Do you have any idea how much trouble I have gone through to make sure we stay hidden? You couldn't even think of at least letting me know before you go somewhere and risk getting exposed?"