The original idea I had of Sel being wounded in battle, it fell to the side when I started writing. There's no big fights, no big battles, but there's always the effect of an illness.

Ike had moved Sel to his bed, and between himself, Soren, and Levali, someone was around to keep an eye on him. Though he refused to give up his place by Sel's side. Between himself and Levali, they had managed to get a small amount of potion down Sel's throat, but to Soren's dismay, Sel spit it out and it landed on him.

"I thought we were past this!" Soren grumbled as he swiped at his clothes. "Why must it always be me? Even years later?"

"He didn't mean it, Soren. He probably didn't know you were there." Despite the severity of the situation, Ike looked close to a smile. "He never meant it as a baby, either."

"I still say he did," Soren muttered as he reached for something clean to change into, "he never spit up on you when he was a child."

"We should try again," Levali said softly. She hated to interrupt the light moment, but she had to tell the truth. "He needs to take something. It will help the fever."

"But if he just spits it out - "

"He managed to keep some down."

So they tried again, with Soren lurking further away from the bed. Sel mumbled and fought feebly, but he did swallow the rest of the bottle. Levali excused herself, but she did say to send for her if they needed her. If not, she would return after finishing her errands. When she left, Soren took her place by the bed.

Ike tended to Sel, using a cloth and cool water to wipe his forehead. After a time, Abernathy came in to see how he was doing. Maya stopped by as well, wanting to apologize. If she had known Sel was sick, she would have made certain he did not push himself.

As time passed in the room, Sel dreamed.

He had no idea where he was. He reached for his sword, but it was not at his side. That was worrisome. He searched around for anything to defend himself, but he could not make much of his surroundings out. It was all shrouded in a deep fog. To his right, a noise made him jump.

"Relax, dear. There's nothing here to hurt you."

"Who are you?" Sel demanded. He could not even see her, her words were not enough to calm him.

She appeared from his right, a graceful woman with a soothing air to her. Her long blue hair fell down her back, her features were soft and almost familiar. Though she smiled, her eyes sparkled with tears. "I wanted to see you," she whispered as she touched his cheek. Sel pulled away, still uncertain.

"No one's going to hurt you, boy." This time it was a man's voice. Sel spun around and wished again for his sword. "Though, I dare say you need to be taught a lesson."

To his right, the blue haired woman laughed. "Leave him be," she warned.

"You know I'm not being serious," he told her. He was a hulking man, solid muscle and intimating. He looked as though he belonged with a weapon in hand. In fact, it felt a bit wrong to Sel to see him without one. He clapped a hand to Sel's shoulder and laughed himself.

"I think I've gone mad," Sel muttered to himself.

"Not mad." The woman took his hand in hers. "You're just ill. Come."

She tugged at his hand, but Sel stood firm. "Where?" he demanded. "You haven't answered me."

"Someone else wants to see you."

Who would want to see him? He was confused. Though the woman tugged at his hand, it took a push from the man to get him going. The trio walked among the gloom, with only a few feet on either side really visible. The march seemed almost endless. They drew closer to another woman who leaned over a barrier and stared into nothing. Or at least nothing he could see. Her body language was sad, so sad that it hurt Sel to see it. At their approach, she turned.

"Oh... look at this!" Her face broke into a smile. She hurried to join them, her long black hair flying behind her as she did. She stopped before him and looked to be taking in every inch of him.

"It wouldn't be right to not bring him here."

"Thank you," she sighed. She leaned forward and caressed Sel's cheek with her hand.

"Are you sure I'm not mad?" Sel asked of the first woman. Her smile was her only answer. He had to be. Why else would he be here? Unless...

"Am I dead?"

There was a hearty chuckle from the man and the two women both said no together. "It'll take more than a fever to bring you down," the man added. "You're made of tougher things than that."

"Then what is going on?"

"We need to speak," the black haired woman said. "It's about your father."

"Ah," Sel groaned. Even these mysterious dream people wanted that of him. "No."

"Please." Something in her voice gave him pause. She continued to stroke his cheek with her thumb. "Please listen. He just wanted to protect you. To keep you from getting hurt. Perhaps his choice to keep some things from you was wrong, but in his heart, he felt it was right."

"Can you fault him? Sometimes our pasts, they are difficult to revisit by ourselves, much less with others we care for."

"He had a lot fall on his lap all at once," the man said. Though the two women's voices were emotional, his was calm. "He lost someone important to him and gained a son he did not know of at the same time. It isn't a easy path, but he's handled it as best as anyone can expect of him. We all make mistakes, especially a father on his own. But our children come first."

"He has always put you first," the first woman agreed.

"I don't feel first." Sel was surprised when he heard his voice crack. He put his hand over his mouth to try to keep himself from crying. To cry was bad enough. To cry in front of people he did not know would leave him mortified.

"If you take the time to look at it, you'll see it. And if you can't now, you'll understand when you're a father yourself."

"And even if you can't see it now, just remember he loves you with all of his heart." The black haired woman planted a kiss on his cheek and whispered, "And so do we."