"Who. . ." Ashla's voice was a faint whisper. As half solid sweat beads collected on her forehead, her eyes slowly transitioned from shock to anger. "Who. . . A-are you?"

When he remained silent, the young woman immediately stood up. The floor boards creaked and she pushed herself off the couch, fists tightened as she barked. "Who are you!?"

The entire room reacted in alarm to Ashla's outburst. Angela gasped, eyes widened as the little girl, whom was playing on the floor, started crying. As the unknown visitor's back straightened against the chair, Ashla refused back down. Only Daisuke, who was one of the select few capable of predicting the unstable girl's reactions and emotions, was left unmoved. The sound of footsteps on stairs pounded heavily. In a white blouse, brown kneecap level skirt and her cloak, Deirdre raced down the stairs. Even more so than Daisuke, she was not at all reactive to Ashla's outburst, but her eyes shone with a mere odd curiosity.

Ashla's eyes were both coated with frost, steam rising from her hand as she stood bold. As Angela ran to the crying toddler and picked her up, Ashla eyed the crossbow, "And what is that thing doing in the parlor?"

The man had to shake his head. His shuttering sigh was a clear message that he was indeed scared. Gripping the nobs of the arm rests tightly, he spoke.

"Damian Icemold, a former citizen of Eiskalt. A-after the war. . . I had lost everything. My family, my business. I could not live there any longer. Like you, I've been dedicated to killing him. Like you, I never could."

"If we worked together, though. . ."