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The one who stepped forth, however, was not someone whom he immediately recognized. An entirely unfamiliar face.

That much was not uncommon, of course. His kin acquired new faces with each incarnation.

What was uncommon was for him to still have no clue who he was looking at. His kin were not just their faces, after all. And the process of rebirth was one of his great areas of expertise. Typically, he could still piece together who it was by sensing familiar traces in their soul, aura, and thought patterns.

New, yet familiar--that was how he usually found them.

But instead, this person was entirely strange to him. And Ettol found himself instantly unsettled, as well.

Was it a brand new soul, perhaps? One he'd simply never met before? On its first visit from beyond the Veil?

No, there was something more here... or something missing, rather. Ettol couldn't sense this person's soul or aura at all. Not their patterns of thought, either.

It was like a blank page standing in front of him.

It almost reminded him of their so-called father. But not quite. Ettol was never going to forget what he was like, nor did he ever expect to see another incarnation of him again.

Silence fell over the room as the new arrival laid eyes upon Ettol, looking him up and down while saying nothing.

Ettol was reluctant to speak first, though he did not precisely know why. This stranger--it almost felt like speaking first would give away a vital advantage, somehow.

Who was this man? Why had he made contact all of a sudden?

And why did he look so plain?

Such basic attire. White shirt with gray pants. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average build, average features. Not even a whiff of guile or attentiveness in his gaze. Like he was hardly even present--both physically and mentally.

At length, Ettol's discomfort grew too terrible, and he was compelled to get the conversation started. "I'm sorry, but I do not have long. I'm expecting company. It is a pleasure to meet you, but if there is something you wish to talk to me about, then please, make it be known now."

The stranger took his time responding. "Don't mind me. Go ahead and conduct your meeting."

Ettol had to consciously stop himself from squinting. "Might you honor me with your name, cedo?"

But rather than getting an answer with words, Ettol instead felt a sudden gust of wind wash over him.

And through him, too.

As if the words he'd just spoken had been rejected and thrown right back into his face. Right back into his very head, even.

"Do not do that, please," said the stranger. "I mislike being marked."