Days passed. Weeks followed, then months.
The current of time flowed with relentless speed, and everyone was swept along with it.
Frey spent his days training beneath his mother's wing, honing himself and preparing to inherit her legacy. His talent was extraordinary, and Clea had always proudly claimed that he was the only one capable of one day reaching her level.
The greatest proof of that talent was his siblings' failure to catch up to him despite the absurd amount of time he had spent neglecting his training. Arlecchino and Seth were neither weak nor lacking in talent.
But the difference between the gifted and a true genius was anything but small. And after the two had finally come close to narrowing the gap, even if only slightly, that distance began widening once again the moment Frey resumed his training, his strength rising at a frightening pace.
