Devaguea stared at the stone for what felt like an eternity, eyes tracing each line, part of his mind breaking for each line on the stone. He had joked about his name being a mystery, and had thought that 'true names' were a thing, picked up from a scroll he had stolen before breaking free, so he had given himself the name Devaguea just to have something for others to call him. Clearly, the scroll about true names had been less literal than he had thought.<br/><br/>The only good news on the stone was the birth year listed on it, meaning he now knew his actual age instead of guessing. No idea what the DATE was, but at least he could now make sure the information about his age was right.<br/><br/>The fact that he had apparently DIED six times, however, was why he was simply staring at the stone like a small child outside a home that had a party on a cold, windy night. He could probably identify the specific fights that had gotten numbers on this stone if he tried hard enough, even if he hadn't known the dates before. At least one of them was from the 'gladiator' archer that he was certain had hit him in the face, another was from the spearmen that had managed to pin him down and stab him to... apparently death, but the other four would take more remembering. Not that he wanted to, but seeing his stone, like this, made him look up at the at least semi-divine being in front of him, and ask the simplest yet most difficult question of all, even as all of his old scars flared in sudden agony.<br/><br/>"Why?"