It all happened at once. A flash of bright silver light, and it was over. Galla wondered if it were her death. But it was not. Just a hard surface coming between her fists and the violent snakes. And she smashed into it and, because it didn't even budge, she fell over backwards, pulled by the chains' collapsing weight. She gasped and looked at him from the floor, looked at the man - was it even a man -, who seemed to be clad in silver, the beautiful shape of his body gleaming in the light. He was strong, and he was handsome, but there was something so extremely alien in him. Galla raked her mind quickly. Because although he appeared to be foreign and unnatural, a certain aspect of him was oh, so familiar. Familiar like an old dream, like a memory. From long, long ago.<br/><br/>A sudden flash-back struck Galla and she saw herself, as a child, an innocent, peaceful child in her old home. Listening to stories of a so-called man of silver, a hero in Rome, a mentor of the Valerii. But she was one of the Valerii and he had never even looked at her, she had never been able to express her interest for his origin, for his battles, for the war he wages even at home. She had never met him, but he had impressed her and had inspired her.<br/><br/>Galla snapped out of it and looked at him with anger - it's true, it was reduced by a certain awe. "You....it can't be...." She started crawling back, away from him, the movement awkward due to the loathed chains. "How can this be....no, it isn't real!" She now noticed the woman who had joined them. She was beautiful too, and she radiated a certain calm and harmony, unlike the things that flowed from Sthenae. She wondered why such a woman would spend her time here. She was blind, or so it seemed. Yet, she walked with an ease and an elegance the likes of which Galla had never witnessed. And she asked about her origin, mentioning the<em>scent of sea</em>...yes, perhaps she did have an ungodly odour upon her.<br/><br/>But she snapped back when she remembered the large figure looming over her, talking to her in such a tone...calm, uninvolved, superior, as if chiding a child, but lacking in violence or menace. It was something Galla was not used to. She did not know how to respond. She fought violence with violence, and she was violent when the other was assuming or patronizing. But when there was no possible commentary, no understandable reaction...she was completely and utterly lost.