A/N: Back with another update! The next one will be the last! :D To all the new followers and reviewers, thank you SO MUCH for your show of appreciation and kind words! It means a lot and really motivates me to keep going. I'll be sure to post the last chapter soon, which is an epilogue, so look out for that! (':

1835

A year passed.

All of a sudden, Hazel's condition deteriorated drastically. She started having seizures again, but not like the ones she had when she was younger. These were much more aggressive. At night, her brother would wake up to the sounds of his baby sister crying and screaming, and he would rush into her room, only to find the white sheets stained with red.

Hazel looked more dead than alive. Her eyes weren't bright green and sparkly any more; her pupils were pinpointed, her skin completely pale – by the exception of her blue lips – and her thick, sandy blonde hair had no sheen. She was drowsy and inattentive, weak, her skin cold and clammy, her pulse disquietingly low, and she always complained about nausea and aches in her body. She weighed next to nothing, for she didn't eat; all she wanted to consume was water.

No one could figure out how a simple lung defect could suddenly break out like this. It was strange, for she always took her morphine.

Doctor Tate was called in after Hazel's parents became tired of her brother's pestering. Even though he wasn't scheduled for Canterbury or other cities in Kent at that time of the year, he travelled all the way from London anyway to check up on the young girl. When he finished, he had a worried look on his face. He shook his head, "I am awfully sorry. A few months, a year at the most. That's all, she has left."

After that, Daniel's schooling went sharply downhill. He didn't pay much attention to his homework. He couldn't sleep at night. Sometimes, he didn't even show up to the classes. He immersed himself in books upon books to try and forget about all that was troubling him, but it eventually resulted in him also forgetting about his friends. They gave up on trying to make contact.

It was when the cakes in the locked cabinet of treats in the kitchen started disappearing that Headmaster Wallace couldn't deal with it any more. Owen and the others tried to defend him, but due to his bad history – including the Advent incident and the fire in the stables – no one believed that Daniel was innocent. Wallace decided to dismiss him. Daniel didn't even care any more. It all seemed pointless; he was going to be an artisan anyway. He didn't need the education. Neither he nor his friends ever found out who actually stole those cakes.

His father took it surprisingly well. When Daniel had packed all of his things and returned home from the school for good, John decided that he should now be helping out in the studio full-time. There were no harsh punishments, no scoldings. While working on a new sculpture, he merely said, "You're not going back to school. I don't want any more trouble with you. Are we clear?"

Daniel nodded and answered in a hoarse, barely audible voice, "Yes."

John was exhausted. His daughter was dying, and his son apparently incapable of doing anything that could be spoken even remotely positive of. Now that Hazel's condition had broken out so severely, even more money went into the expenses of her treatment – but it just didn't seem to get any better.

After everything that had happened throughout the past year, Daniel found himself in a really bad place. He had grown increasingly more indifferent. He felt no motivation. He didn't keep in touch with his friends in spite of them writing to him often. He didn't spend any time on himself. It just seemed like there was no point, for everything kept getting worse. He had tried to erase everything that had happened by keeping himself busy, but as more and more parts of his life started to tumble down the memories and pain kept coming back to haunt him, and sometimes it left him lying awake at night, punching his fist into the pillow and biting his lip to keep himself from screaming. He had lost everything. His life had become so meaningless. The darkness, he had tried so hard to escape from, had engulfed him in the blink of an eye. In the dark place in which he was now trapped, he had only one weak source of light; Hazel – and even that flame was dying out.

Even as Daniel had become so careless about everything in his life, Hazel still was that one thing he would never give up on. She was all he had left, the only thing that still mattered to him, and he desperately held on to this light for dear life. He would do anything to keep Hazel alive for as long as possible, for he just couldn't accept it. He couldn't lose her as well. This was the reason why Daniel took the job at the merchant's.

When Daniel didn't help his father in the studio, he devoted himself to taking care of Hazel. He knew that John needed all the support he could get to pay for her expensive treatment, and the good Mr. Clark was in need of a young, strong boy to help out when travelling around the region for the market seasons – and he paid well. The market seasons usually lasted about a fortnight, and took place in the autumn, spring and late summer. All that Daniel earned was spent on Hazel's medication, just like before Henrietta, when John was too caught up in his own sorrow to provide for his children.

The whole year had been very turbulent, to say the least. When summer fell over England and Canterbury once again was in full bloom, the large white mansion with the tall oak trees had been put on sale. Daniel already knew, but he had to go and see for himself.

The house was completely empty. The garden had overgrown a bit. All of the beautiful furniture had been removed. The library had no books any more. In the bay window sat no one. It was almost beautiful, in a hauntingly tragic sense. She wouldn't return again.

Hazel spent all summer in bed. He always read to her after helping Father with his work. In his mind he was like Scheherazade, and as long as he kept telling the story she would not die. No matter how hard he worked, his efforts only barely kept her alive, though. Daniel was exhausted, but he never gave up. He was not going to lose Hazel.

In late July, shortly after he had turned eighteen and finally become what most would call 'a young man of age', he went with Mr. Clark to display his items on the annual summer fair around Kent. When he returned one early afternoon in August, he didn't know that he would come home to what could only be described as a stranger's house.

After having fixed Pride up after the long trip and put him back in his box, he went inside the house. It was as quiet and calm as always. So far, he suspected nothing. "I'm home!" he called out.

There was no answer right away. He reckoned that his parents were busy doing whatever they thought important; that being Henrietta embroidering some new handkerchief for John, and John ordering the servants around.

But soon Miss Turner appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, cleaning her hands in her apron. She smiled at him as he hung his coat on the hall stand. "Oh, Daniel! You're back! How was the trip, did Mr. Clark make some good deals?" she said cheerfully as she came to give the grown young man, who had become incredibly tall all of a sudden, a hug.

Daniel smiled, embracing the small woman back. "Indeed. I've made quite the fortune this time. I'm sure Hazel will feel better any time now! Speaking of which, how is she?" Miss Turner's smile halted. Daniel immediately noticed the change in her eyes. He frowned. "What is it? Did something happen? Another seizure?"

She averted her eyes from his. "Daniel, I think you should talk to your parents about this…"

"What do you mean? Where is she?"

He immediately let go of her and began climbing the stairs. Miss Turner looked up at him alarmed, calling at him from the foot of the staircase, "Daniel! Please!"

Daniel didn't listen. He ran upstairs, jumping several steps at a time, took a few quick steps down the hallway and burst open the door to his sister's room. What he saw inside was not quite what he expected.

It was empty. Almost, at least. The bed was gone. In fact, most of the furniture was. The room looked like it was about to be refurnished into an office.

He stared around the room. This could not be right. This was Hazel's room. Two weeks ago, he had embraced her and told her goodbye right here. Where was she now? Had she been relocated?

Daniel walked back down the hallway to the stairs, only to find Henrietta down in the main hall, talking to Miss Turner whose kind features now were furrowed in a worried expression. Henrietta's face was as stoic and cold as always, though. He descended the stairs. "What is going on, Henrietta? Where is Hazel?"

Henrietta looked up at her stepson, her facial expression not changing an inch. "Oh, Daniel. It's good to see that you're home again."

Daniel reached the end of the stairs, growling at the woman, "Don't mess around with me! Where is she?"

"What is going on here?" John entered the main hall, obviously bothered by all the commotion. When he saw Daniel, he raised his eyebrows, but he didn't look happy at all. His voice was as deep and monotonous as ever, "Oh. You're home."

"Father, where is Hazel?" Daniel said, losing his patience. He noticed how his parents sent each other knowing glances; his father almost appeared uneasy while Henrietta still seemed utterly impassive. Daniel could see her mask unravelling, though.

"Son, you know that we can't do this," John said, burying his hands in his pockets and shaking his head, "It's not in our hands any more. We… She's just not getting any better, Daniel, and we can't afford it. We put her in the Canterbury hospice." Henrietta's face stayed completely deadpan, but she couldn't look up at her family members any more; instead she kept her gaze locked on the floor.

Daniel stared at his father, light green eyes wide. His mind was working at full throttle, trying to process what all this implied. As the true meaning became clear to him, as he realised that all his hard work had been futile – that his parents had given up, that they didn't respect one bit how much he needed this – he felt something crack inside him. Something that had become very fragile throughout the past year. "You put her in a hospice … without even discussing it with me first?"

John and Henrietta glanced at each other.

Daniel trembled. He fisted his hands and clenched his teeth together. "While I was away, unable to protest and do anything about it?"

"Daniel, she is dying!" John said in a strict, warning tone, but that didn't intimidate his son. The young man stamped hard on the floor.

"AND YOU'RE NOT GIVING HER A CHANCE!" he barked, "You never did!"

Everyone gasped. John's narrow grey eyes widened in shock.

Henrietta took matters into her own hands and placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Please, Daniel, we have done everything we can for her."

Daniel looked at her with nothing but disgust. "You!" he snapped, rapping her hand away aggressively, "It was your idea, wasn't it? Didn't you say that it was your money that kept her alive? Huh?"

"Daniel, calm down right this instant!" John yelled, but his words and the angry note in his voice no more affected the boy like they used to. He looked at his father with a gaze so intense, John's breath caught in his throat when he saw all those repressed emotions, things kept quiet that were finally set free.

Daniel's eyes blinked rapidly. "You never loved us, did you?" he cried, punching his fist into the hall desk beside him, "You never loved your own children! You only ever loved Mum! And you hated us because she died! You blamed Hazel for her death!"

Miss Turner covered her mouth in shock. The other servants peeked out from the kitchen and hallways to see what was going on.

"And even despite that, you completely forgot about our mother when you finally had money! You've always been so caught up in yourself that you forgot about the ones who needed you the most! But we got by anyway, without you!" he continued, pointing at John whose face had grown awfully pale. The tears found way down the boy's flushed cheeks. "You pushed us away! You never even gave Hazel a chance! It even took you years to cancel her membership in that damned funeral club, didn't it?!"

He fell silent. The tension still lingered in the air as the echo of Daniel's yells died in the hall. Everyone looked at John. The man couldn't look his son in the eyes. He kept his gaze locked on his feet. Daniel couldn't believe it. "You never cancelled her membership," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly, "did you?"

John merely closed his eyes, his brows knitted together in regret.

Daniel swallowed hard, nodding. "I've had enough," he said, his chest rising in heavy, but calm breaths, "I've had enough of both of you." Those were his last words, before he grabbed his coat again and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

John was a changed man. He craved to be left alone in the living room, only letting his wife in with him. Henrietta watched as he sat in the armchair, burying his face in his hands. She saw that he was in great pain, but his pride didn't allow him to cry. Henrietta sighed and took another sip of her tea, trying to quell her nerves. For the past twenty minutes since the young man had left the house, everything had been eerily quiet. Both of the children were gone, but somehow, their collective anger and melancholy lingered.

It had only been a matter of time. Henrietta had witnessed the rage building up within the boy; it had already been alarmingly obvious the first time she met him. She knew that someday he would explode. The family had really gone too far, and now everything was shattered to pieces. It wasn't supposed to end like this. It really wasn't.

Henrietta glanced at her husband once again, studying his trembling form, observing his fight against his inner demons, and for a moment she wondered who would win. His son had taken a lot after him. Maybe it was time that they repaired their relationship.

John couldn't contain it any more. Barely audible sobs escaped him. He pulled hard at his brown, slightly greying locks, trying to distract himself with physical pain, but little did it help.

The woman stood up from her seat by the window, walking towards the main hall. "I need to run an errand," she said. John didn't answer.

She knew exactly where he had gone to.

Daniel stepped inside the bright room. The window was open, letting in fresh, cool summer air. The room was small, and nearly empty with the exception of a chest of drawers, a chair and a single bed with a bedside table beside it near the window. Everything was impeccably clean and white, but without personality. A small, fading figure lay in the bed; as she saw the tall young man in the doorway, she struggled to sit up and offered a weak smile. "Hello, Daniel," Hazel said, "I'm so glad to see you!"

Seeing her like this, so pale and thin and fragile, it couldn't help but moisten Daniel's eyes. He swallowed his tears back and quickly went to sit beside his sister on the chair, pulling her into a warm embrace without saying anything.

"Please, tell me a story, Daniel," she said with her sweet, light voice.

Daniel pulled back, forcing a smile and discreetly wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Once upon a time, there was a barren and desolate land," he said, his voice shaking slightly as his throat betrayed him, "Nothing existed but darkness, ashes and cold, and the people were miserable. The… The stars saw the land and knew that they would never be able to light it up by themselves. They collected their stardust through one hundred years, and a girl was born from it."

Hazel closed her eyes, just listening to the gentle, calm sound of her brother's voice that had become so deep over the years. She never really noticed, but he had indeed grown a lot.

"The girl became a woman in one day. She was named Hazel by one of the stars. The star handed her a candle and told Hazel to go to the core of the world and light it. Hazel accepted and went on her way. She followed the star to the Underworld, for according to the star, that was the only way to get to the core..." Daniel paused, once again struggling to keep his voice straight. When he felt sure that his vocal cord wouldn't suddenly crack, he continued, "She arrived at the entrance. The guardian by the gate was merely a skeleton in an armour. It told her that to gain entrance to the Underworld, she had to answer a riddle. Hazel accepted the challenge, and the bony guard said, You cannot see me, hear me or touch me. I lie behind the stars and alter what is real, I am what you really fear. Close your eyes and I come near. What am I?"

The small girl opened her eyes again and gently placed a hand over Daniel's. He looked at her in confusion. She merely smiled at him and whispered, "I know the answer, Daniel."

He let out a soft chuckle, smiling back at her. "Then tell me."

"It is what you have always feared," she said and closed her eyes again. She squeezed his hand and let out a soft sigh, then looked up at him again. "I'll protect you from it, Danny. The darkness."

Daniel averted his gaze to his feet. Hazel wasn't the one who was supposed to protect him. He was the older brother. All this time he fought and struggled, but she ended up in a hospice anyway, and now she was just waiting to die – all because he couldn't take care of her properly. He squeezed his eyes close, continuing the story, "It was thanks to the star that she figured out the answer. The darkness feared the bright light of the star. She told the guard her answer, and it bowed down for Hazel, letting her pass through the gate. Hazel and the star walked for a while until they reached an abyss, where dead bodies of lost souls, both rotten and fresh, lay scattered all over. A crumbling bridge was the only way to the other side, but as Hazel placed one step on it, it fell apart and tumbled down into the nothingness."

He opened his eyes, glancing at Hazel. The young girl had closed her eyes again, breathing in softly through calm breaths. Only a slight wheezing escaped her throat. Daniel wondered if she had fallen asleep, but continued his story nonetheless, "Hazel was a clever girl. She weaved a rope out of the hair of the dead; it was strong enough to carry her, and she climbed over."

Apparently Hazel wasn't asleep. Just then, she opened her large, round eyes again. "Hazel is so brave."

Daniel smiled and nodded, caressing Hazel's soft hair. "She is indeed. When Hazel and the star finally reached the core, they found a terrifying, bloodthirsty dragon that was resting by the gate. The star told Hazel that she couldn't touch any of the golden treasures the dragon protected, else it would wake up and devour her."

By now, Hazel was completely immersed in the story. Her eyes were unfocused, staring up into the ceiling without aim. Daniel studied her soft features, the beautiful face that had taken so much after their mother. Evelyn lived on within Hazel. If he were to lose her too, he wouldn't be able to handle it. She was the only memory he had left.

He clenched his teeth together stubbornly, grasping on tightly to his thigh so that his trousers became wrinkled. Composing himself, he continued, "Hazel sneaked past the dragon, but when she neared the gate she couldn't resist all those sparkly diamonds and jewels, and she touched them. The dragon woke up and began chasing Hazel with a feverish blood thirst. Fortunately the star came to her rescue, but at the expense of Hazel's mistake the star burned out by the cold breath of the dragon."

Suddenly Hazel began sobbing softly as a single tear made its way down her cheek. "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said, sniffling, "Oh, how I hate that the star has to die. Why was Hazel so stupid? Why couldn't she defend herself? The star shouldn't have to suffer because of her…"

Daniel tilted his head, frowning. He didn't know why it affected Hazel so much all of a sudden; it was true that it had always made her sad in the past, but he had never seen her suddenly break into tears like this. He caressed her cheek, wiping her tear away. She looked at him with her large, glinting eyes. "Don't be sad, Hazel," he said, smiling as he repeated the exact same words his mother had told him, "She avenges the star eventually, remember?"

Hazel sniffled once again, wiping her eyes, "She does?"

He frowned, feeling slightly confused. "Yes, of course. You already know how the story goes, Hazel."

She merely nodded as her crying subsided. It was a bit strange, but Daniel decided not to linger by it too much. He took a deep breath and continued, "Hazel escaped just in time, and the gate closed behind her. She found herself in a completely dark room with only one light up ahead. Hazel got closer and saw that the light came from a candle with a silver flame. She reached out for it, and suddenly the flame grew large in an attempt to absorb her."

Daniel paused and looked at Hazel. She seemed lost in her own thoughts. As silence continued to take over the room for an extended amount of time, she suddenly noticed that he had stopped. She looked at Daniel, beckoning for him to continue, "Finish the story, Danny."

He blinked in surprise, but then nodded. "Hazel was caught up in the flame, but as she was born of stardust, she didn't burn – instead the flame turned gold and expanded. It filled the whole core, and Hazel dashed to the sky."

Hazel looked up at Daniel, and her eyes looked more alive than Daniel had seen them in a long time. Both tragedy, melancholy and happiness overwhelmed him at once as memories came rushing back; memories of a healthier Hazel who romped about on her short legs, only two years of age. Of a Hazel a bit older, eager to help out with the cooking, and glowing with vitality every time she was allowed outside into the world. And strongest of all, memories of his own mother – first smiling at him with a love so strong, the kind only a mother could offer – then her fragile body sinking down into the old couch; her sighing as she drew her last breath.

Life and death. Such simple words which held so much meaning. Though complete opposites, it seemed that there was only a fine line between the two concepts. Daniel felt himself tremble as he finished the tale. "She kept burning her golden light and became the brightest star in the heavens, the star we know as the sun and light. The land became fertile." He blinked, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "Hazel, the sun, the strongest symbol of life that could ever be."

Hazel nodded slowly. Her eyes were glazed over. For a while they sat in comfortable silence. The birds chirped happily outside. It was a lovely day in Canterbury. The hospice wasn't located in the town centre, but a little ways outside, surrounded by beautiful fields and tall trees. At least it didn't look like a place where people came to die.

Finally Hazel turned her gaze towards Daniel. She took his hand again and smiled. "I have to confess something, Daniel," she said. Her lashes fluttered down, her smile halting a bit. "All my life … I've wanted to be as brave and strong as Hazel in the story... I wanted to be able to live up to the name you gave me, but I…" Tears started to form in her eyes, "I never could… I am nothing but a great disappointment that always needs protection… I'm sorry that I couldn't be as great as Hazel, Daniel…"

Another crack added to the pieces of the young man's broken heart. Daniel bit his lip, feeling a deep sense of guilt coming over him. He never meant to set expectations for Hazel by giving her the name of the morning star. It wasn't what he intended. "No, Hazel," he said, leaning forward and cupping her face in both his hands, "Listen to me. You surpassed Hazel a long time ago. You are good. You are kind. You are strong and have a brave heart. Nothing in the whole world could ever come close to how magnificent and beautiful you are. Don't ever feel that you are a disappointment. You could never be, and never to me! Do you understand?" He gave her a small peck on her burning hot forehead, "And I promise that you're not going to die, Hazel. I won't allow it. I will never give up on you."

Hazel smiled, unable to keep her tears back any more. She sat up and pulled her brother into an embrace, letting everything out. "Thank you so much, Daniel. I trust you."

Daniel stroked her long hair down her back, clutching her small form tight. He bit his lip, unsure how he was going to say this. He knew he had to, but it made him so sad to know that this might be the last time he would see her for a long time. He just couldn't take it any more. He couldn't stay. "Hazel," he said gently, squeezing her even tighter in his arms, "I… I'm going to London."

Hazel finally pulled away, looking at Daniel with round, doll-like emerald eyes. "Are you really?"

Daniel nodded, an apologetic look draping his face. "Yes. I … I cannot stay here any more, Hazel. I just … can't."

She nodded, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Daniel... Do you remember when we went to the Cathedral to get me baptised, and you asked me what I prayed for during the service?"

He frowned as he recalled that autumn morning five years ago, back when Doctor Tate had first deduced that his sister was dying. They had gone to the Canterbury Cathedral to baptise Hazel, and Daniel had told her to think really good about what she was going to pray for during the service.

Not all prayers are fulfilled, but if the Lord finds yours to be meaningful enough, he will grant your wish.

Daniel moistened his lips and nodded, "Why, yes, I do."

Hazel smiled brightly at him, brushing her small, slender fingers through his chocolate hair as her eyes welled up. "I prayed that one day you would be able to escape this dark place and go make a name for yourself, follow your dream. And that you would have a better life… The life that you deserve, Danny."

It was too much. All these years, and he never knew just how great a person his darling baby sister had grown up to be, so selfless and pure; she had been his guardian angel all along.

Daniel broke down, salt liquid streaming down his cheeks. He brought a hand up to cover his eyes, wiping away the tears as he tried to speak through the sobs, "Hazel, I won't forget you! I promise that whatever happens I'll come back to get you, and then I'll take you with me to London so that you can get the treatment you need! Just promise me back that you will wait for me. Don't stop believing and don't ever give up! Do you understand?" He grabbed both her hands in his and kissed them. "You have to go on, Hazel. Go on for me, all right?"

Hazel broke into tears as well. She tried to stifle her crying, but she simply couldn't. She nodded, her shoulders trembling violently as she put her arms around her brother's neck and embraced him hard once again. "I promise, Daniel. I'll never give up. I believe in you!"

The siblings held on to each other for as long as they could, knowing that this was the last time they would see each other in a long time.

Daniel closed the door to Hazel's ward behind him. He turned around to make his way back down the hallway, planning to head back home and pack his bags, but he stopped in his tracks as he saw the figure standing before him.

Henrietta looked at him, shaking her head. The silence persisted between them. At last, she took a deep breath and spoke, "You know that I don't have anything to hold against you any more, so why didn't you tell your father about Mr. Evans when you had the chance?"

He blinked a few times, though otherwise keeping a completely straight face. She noticed him fisting his hands. "John is already too far beyond help," he said, "and he isn't worth it any more."

The woman looked as expressionless as ever. She merely nodded, "I see."

Daniel continued on his way, walking directly past her. He didn't get far before the sound of her voice made him stop again.

"I could never kill John, Daniel," Henrietta said.

He didn't respond. He just stood there with his back turned to his stepmother, waiting for her to continue.

Henrietta paused for a bit, her mask beginning to crack as memories played out behind her eyes. "I always wanted children," she said in an unusually soft voice, "but I couldn't bear any. Miscarriage upon miscarriage. It tore me up inside."

Daniel kept silent.

"And Robert always reminded me. He tormented me for years, putting the blame of our failed pregnancies on me. But I never said anything. I loved him. I really did." Henrietta shook her head, carefully wiping an escaped tear from her eye. "Suddenly he was struck by a terrible disease. Believe it or not, he looked even worse than your poor sister. It pained me to see him like that. He suffered so much that he even begged for me to take his gun and shoot him already. But I couldn't."

Still no response. The young man merely stood solid on the ground, staring forward through the open window at the end of the hallway.

"That was why I poisoned him," Henrietta whispered, closing her eyes, "I spent a long time researching and looking for the least painful drug on the market. I couldn't bear to see him like that any more."

Daniel fisted his hands tighter, licking his teeth behind his lips.

"I put it in his tea. It took less than a minute before he fell unconscious. Five minutes later he didn't breathe any more. He didn't scream, he didn't writhe, nothing. He just silently slept in." Henrietta stroked her arms as if she was cold. She finally turned around to look at Daniel. He still had his back turned towards her. She sighed. "Daniel, I want you to remember that your father didn't have two pennies to rub together when I met him. It certainly wasn't the money I married him for, and it wasn't the fortune I poisoned Robert Evans for."

Daniel moistened his lips, deep in thought. His fist loosened up a bit.

"I never meant to replace your mother," Henrietta said at last, "I apologise, Daniel."

She fell silent. He lingered in his position for a while, not moving an inch. The air let in through the open windows blew through the hallway, gently tangling in the woman's long skirt and the young man's shoulder-length brown tresses.

Finally he moved. He continued down the hallway, reaching the stairs. He went home.

John heard the door open. He hadn't moved away from the armchair in the living room. If there was anything John had always been good at, it was grieving.

He looked up from his seat as he heard the person in the hallway walk into the living room. His eyes widened as he recognised his grown son looking down at him with a blank look on his face. John instantly shot up from the armchair, walked up to Daniel and grabbed his shoulders. "My son," he said, shaking his head, "I am so awfully sorry." He put his arms around the tall young man, pulling him into an embrace as he began to cry.

Daniel felt strange. The whole situation was surreal. He didn't remember ever having been allowed into his father's arms before, and he hadn't seen him shed any tears since that time he stole some tools from the studio for Henry. He didn't cry himself, though, not any more. Men did not weep.

John sniffled and patted his son's back with his large, sturdy hand before he pulled away from him, taking a good look at the boy. He offered a weak smile through the thick, groomed beard and said, "You have grown into such a fine young man. Your mother would have been proud."

Daniel didn't answer. He merely averted his gaze.

His father's smile faltered. He hurriedly continued, "Forgive me, Daniel. I know that I have neglected both you and Hazel for way too long. I have so many regrets. All these years I just left my own children to fend for themselves..." He nearly choked on his own tears, trying to swallow them back.

Daniel looked at his father again. It gave John the courage to continue. "Your mother…" he said, averting his gaze as he reminisced, "She had always been awfully fragile, much like your sister. When she got pregnant with Hazel she became very ill, and we didn't know why. Due to the economical crisis, we couldn't afford to get a doctor." John shook his head and let go of Daniel's shoulders to place his hands on his hips. He took a deep breath. "I loved Evelyn so much. It hurt when she died, Daniel. It hurt a lot. I just wouldn't be able to bear it if I were to lose … another loved one in my life."

Daniel frowned, tilting his head. He still said nothing.

"I suppose that was the reason why I distanced myself," John said, clenching his teeth together, "Hazel was too weak. I convinced myself she wouldn't make it, so there was no point getting attached. It would just be too painful when she died."

"But she's not going to die," Daniel said.

John looked up at Daniel, a bit surprised that he had finally decided to speak up. But then he merely shook his head, "You are incredibly stubborn. You certainly didn't get that from your mother." He let out a soft chuckle, perhaps even a little forced. Daniel took a deep breath, pursing his lips. His father's laughter died down, and they stood for a while in silence.

Finally Daniel spoke again, "I'm going to London, Father." The large man looked up at him with wide eyes and a frown. He hurriedly continued, "To attend the university." He shook his head with an apologetic look. "I don't want to be an artisan, Dad. I'm going to educate myself to become an archaeologist."

John looked like another piece of his already broken heart had just been maimed, but for once he didn't take his anger out on his son. He swallowed it down, his face filled with shame and regret. He nodded, unable to look at Daniel any more. "I see. When?"

"Tomorrow morning," he answered concisely, not bothering to try and sugar coat it any further. His initial plan had actually been to leave the very same evening, but he had changed his mind.

It was too much for John. Realising just how much he had ruined his relationship with his children through the years, he finally broke down completely and wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a clumsy embrace.

Daniel didn't know how to react. He merely patted his father's back, biting his lip and frowning in regret. He was sorry, too.