As he made his way to the audience chamber, a self-deprecating smile rose to his lips. Though Garleans are known for their large frames, the body he wore was by no means exceptional in that regard, nor was that of the woman he took for his wife. Yet their firstborn son was a prodigiously tall and robust specimen, unprecedented even among his kind. As the boy grew, his physique was held in awe and admiration by all, though to him it was a source of great vexation.
In the end, they were all just malformed creatures. Feeble, frail, and foolish. Thrashing blindly about in their fleeting, fragmented lives, repeating the same mistakes over and over again. Never could they replace his brethren. Yet in spite of himself, when he cradled the newborn in his arms and stroked that downy hair, he could not help but hope. For what, he could not be certain, but he hoped nonetheless. It made little difference in the end, for his son had succumbed to some absurd illness and returned to the Underworld long before his time. Not without leaving behind a legacy, however─a living, breathing, and ever-present reminder of that momentary lapse.