it's burning in the bloodline

ludo

"As long as the longest of nights is not upon us, I can find any, sweetling," Ludo explained solemnly; those trapped in ice or alone in the cold were no exemption, particularly for this ragged god. In the face of her grief, her what-ifs and I-wants, Ludo drifted to drape itself about her like a shawl, mask pressed close to her face.

"Why?" it asked. "Why lament what did not happen? It does a disservice for the memories that you did make. The times you did share." At its words, those very memories would spring to the forefront of Amalia's mind, and with them the joy of those occasions.

"These are how we live beyond death," it said of the memories. "If you have these, they remain still."