The favor of others is not my concern.

The Wanderer was not one to worry about frivolous joys like that. It mattered not if others enjoyed, or even hated, his presence. He did not believe himself to be one who deserved such benevolence, especially not for his wrongdoings that were not so bygone. Although Irminsul granted his wish of erasure, somewhere in the universe's fabric was the fine lining that held his gruesome tales—the frayed threads he so desperately wished to sever. It was simply fate's cruel design to make him live with his transgressions.

And yet, an annoyingly persistent light wanted to thwart his night: a fellow scholar. You—who roamed the Akademiya halls with not so much as a mean bone in your body—terrified the Wanderer. If truth be told, the archaic days of his pursuit for deification were indeed paled by your pursuit for companionship. Even when everyone else, albeit mystified by him, avoided this "Hat Guy" they spoke of, you did not. You always had the time to smell the roses, for you sought the good in everyone, including ones as prickly as the Wanderer. Your zealousness melted his icy demeanor, and your laughter rendered his otherwise sharp tongue dull. Not even his studies could keep you away from him. It irked him.

Unlike the Wanderer, the news of his new "friend" overjoyed Nahida. She insisted that, instead of yearning for time's passage or atonement, he could begin retribution by giving back to those around him. There was some truth to her words, however daunting they may be. With great reluctance, Wanderer heeded Nahida's wishes, and little by little, your friendship budded.

It was now break time between your classes, and granted that the Wanderer could resist the urge to leave, he figured he could wait for you. So, he stood nearby, ignoring the hushed whispers of his moniker in the mouths of scholars.

When you finally came out of your hall, he cleared his throat. "Let's go."

Wordlessly, without bothering to look back, he resumed his haste.