Though it seemed silly, Key listened to the boy, or was he man? It didn't honestly matter, she decided, as she moved into a standing position once more. Her most comfortable stance was one that most would not even recognize, and something she had not done in almost a century. Key clasped her hands together and raised them, palms outwards, towards the ceiling. As she rose on her toes, she took a deep breath. It was strange that something so simple would instantly begin to calm her down. Perhaps it was the familiarity of it, but she refused to believe it was just the breathing.

Once she was in position, she began to think over his questions. Peace. It was such an easy word to describe, she though. Peace was when everyone lived in harmony. Simple. And yet, when she closed her eyes, this was not the picture that came to her mind. Instead, she saw a time when she was a child, in the actual sense of the word, before she had known what she was. Together with the other children of the tribe, she danced around a fire and chanted. None of them really knew what they were doing, but it looked fun so they had joined in. The laughter carried and soon they were laying in the grass, worn out.

The warmth of the fire had soothed them into sleep, and it was the first time Key had felt that peace that Tai Yang had been talking about. 

Her mind continued through her memories, and again stopped during her first life, after she had become an elder. Key had watched the people of her tribe grow older, have children, and then grandchildren. As she stared out at a family, she again found that sense of peace. A child was laughing with her mother, over what, she did not know. 

Key found herself stumbling out of the position she'd been holding. She'd found her answer to his question, but the phoenix didn't like the journey or what she'd seen. Remembering had always been painful, and so she'd chosen to forget.