The King of the Sky took off with a shriek, whipping up great clouds of dust.
"Poop-Scooper's gone, Mom. Will he ever come visit us again?"
Lasha watched the Giant Eagle recede into the sky, sadness on her face.
"Who knows? But when Lisa grows up, she can go out to sea and see the world. It's such a big place. It would be a shame not to explore it."
"Be free. Do what you want, like your father or Werther. Live life on your own terms.
"But whether you become someone like your father or someone like Werther is up to you. It's your life, Lisa. I won't interfere."
Lisa was still too young to understand what her mother meant.
"Mom, what's the difference between Werther and Dad? Werther's nice to me too. I even call him Poop-Scooper, and he never gets mad."
Grace patted Lisa's head and couldn't help smiling. Those two are complete opposites. I wonder what my daughter will be like when she grows up. Deep down, though, she hoped Lisa would act more like her father.
Grace felt Werther's way of doing things was too cold and cruel.
When the Sea Kings attacked the Island, for instance, even if it had truly sunk, that man might have simply left. He would not necessarily have driven them off.
Afterward, Grace had asked Werther why he had refused to help the Island's civilians.
Werther had answered that everyone had their own fate. If anyone was truly innocent, it was the children. Adults had to face their own lives, however cruel those lives might be. That was simply their fate.
After hearing that, Grace knew the man's values were somewhat twisted.
At that moment, high above a stretch of the New World, Werther lay on the King