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What in the world was he doing, Abbas wondered? Had he just arrived? It looked like a meteorite had struck the field.

Not the most graceful of landings, apparently.

Come to think of it, though, he had not actually seen Hector flying during that last battle--unless he was feeling extremely generous with the term "flying," perhaps.

Abbas just stood there in the doorway, turning pages absentmindedly as he watched Hector hobble closer.

Broken a few bones, eh?

Ah.

Abbas was beginning to get the picture.

It was true that Abbas hadn't quite gotten a clear understanding of the young Atreyan lord's strength, but he also hadn't given it much thought, either. The boy had saved his life. And finished off the Man of Crows.

Could that have really all been a fluke? He hadn't thought so.

Now, though?

Hmm.

Perhaps.

And not terribly difficult to believe, either. It would not be the first time that Abbas had seen a young servant best a much older one through little more than good fortune.

But from everything else that he had seen thus far, there was obviously still more to this young man than just luck. The Lord of Warrenhold? Encountering Rasalased? The strangeness of his power? A nest of Wrobels at his disposal? And a Fusion Forge, too?

He would have been a fool to dismiss all of that as luck, too.

No. There was, at the very least, a certain... grit to this young man. It was difficult to describe, having known him for so short a time.

He would have to pay closer attention in the future, Abbas decided.

Hector's composure improved as he got closer, until he finally zoomed the rest of the way and landed gently in front of Abbas.

"Learn anything yet?" the young man said, ever so slightly out of breath.