Azul Ashengrotto relied on his image, he oh so perfectly crafted. Somewhere deep inside he might love himself for who he is, but there was also a deep fear he would lose who he now was.

So seeing his contracts, the ones that he had worked so hard to make, to master the Magic— reduced to nothing but sand, he couldn’t stop the memories from his past from resurfacing.

And that’s all it took to break his mask of composure.