Tjaden walked quickly out of his kitchen, into his meditation room. It was dark in there, velvet sheets and curtains draped against the walls made it feel like a warm, comfortable place, where one could really collect their thoughts. In the center of the small room was a pedestal, with a black pillar candle on each corner. Embedded in the center of this white marble pedestal was a deep, black scrying mirror. The black glass barely reflected the fluttering candle flames. He closed the door, cutting off all outside light. Like this, it seemed as though the room stretched off into infinity, no walls, no boundaries.

He stepped up to the mirror, the clean smell of sandalwood incense ushering away his worries, his doubts, his concerns. The room seemed to disappear around him, only the mirror was in existence.

Flames poured from its surface, and then receeded. In it, he could see Aria, sitting on a couch in her house. She was giggling at something. The mirror moved away, and Tjaden could see what the cause of such amusment was. She with with someone. Tjaden could not see his face behind his long hair. Then she stopped laughing. Tjaden held his breath as he saw the man reach over to Aria, and kiss her.

Tjaden slammed his fist through the mirror. After all he had done for her, all of the spells, all of the guardians... this. He expected nothing in return, except for gratitude, and understanding.

He quietly walked into his bathroom. After filling his onyx sink with warm water, he emptied a small pouch of blue powder into it, immersing his bloody fist into the charged water. His hand was healed, but his heart was not. Tears mingled with the drops of blood on the counter. "It is always this way," he thought.

He removed the spells that he had written, and burnt them to ash.