The world's a beast of a burden

MORGAN

And oh, poor Atlas
The world's a beast of a burden

"There will be at least two guards and one member of my council." Morgan told him. While Neron was so far an obedient prisoner, she knew the Launceleyns had been strong mages: it was possible he had Ascended tricks up his sleeve she had no idea about. After hearing of Wessex's abilities, she knew there really wasn't a limit to what the followers of the Voice could do. "And you trust that Eirachi will follow that caveat?"

She could see the confusion in his eyes at her offer of comfort and did enjoy it at least a little: it was good to be unpredictable, every so often. "A desk could certainly be brought up after Longnight. Who is it you are intending to write to?" A question she would not ask anyone else, but Neron was still a prisoner: he had lost his right to privacy.

Morgan visibly stiffened at the second request, once 'shrine' made sense in her mind: the shrine to the Voice in the mountains, one she had been intending to destroy. "Would you be willing to make a journey to a Hollowed Grounds shrine instead?" She asked, trying to sound indifferent. "And...how is it you have been sustaining yourself in the meantime? Have you been...drinking from someone here?" Wordlessly, she looked towards the door, clearly wondering if her guard had been providing extra services.

And the ships are left to rust
That's what the water gave us