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When the tea is finally ready, Vincent pours himself and Kristoff a cup, sitting them down.

"Please... let me go through everything. I know you'll have plenty to say, for plenty of reasons, but once I get started, it will be hard for me to start again if I get stopped." He swallows hard, then gets going.

He explains how he was called before Odin, the onslaught that Asgard was facing, and all that he himself was told. He tells him of his deliberation, of hearing his oldest friends' prophecy foretold as well. His conflict with Svalin, and Asleif coming to his defense.

He tells him his new name.

"I didn't accept that name merely for myself, I want you to know that." He gives Kristoff an almost desperate work, fighting the urge to stop and ask forgiveness and understanding already. "You have always been the person I credit for all that is good about me. For raising me. You are my father, and my brother."

He takes a breath, and continues, telling him of the great battle, and his part in winning the day, as well as what it cost him. He reaches a hand up to touch the scar softly.

"I don't know what was taken from me... I've.. I've been too afraid to probe deeply enough to discern it precisely."

His accounts of the celebrations after the battle, and his recognition, are surprisingly brief, as he feels himself losing his composure somewhat, tea put aside and hands firmly on his knees.

"And now... I'm home." He looks up at his brother, feeling small and nervous before him, like the first time they truly met, in the police station. "If this can still be my home." He wants to hide his face, but he keeps his eyes on Kristoff.

It lasts for a brief silent moment, before his lip trembles slightly. "I thought I knew what I was doing... Phral... I.. I'm so sorry."