"8j%r6V j7NË" I pronounce, but the words break across my tongue. I frown. "Ah." I exclaim, closing my eyes and mentally running through a brief and in-exhaustive check list. Quickly I find the error. Hmmm. How disappointing. "My language chip seems to have malfunctioned." I say, before wandering through old memories. "I believe in the common tongue they called themselves...the...Ah. Silver Lore." The answer provides itself from the dust of my mind. The words in common are not nearly so elegant as they were in the flowery language they were labeled with before.
"Is there?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "Hope is a disease here that many have not been inoculated against in a long time." I remind him. Warn him. Encourage him.
"They will not return you." I say simply. Where another might have shrugged, I merely stare. The snow is falling more heavily now. "Why do you seek to be remembered? If you have done things of merit, they will fall into the records. But I take it you mean that there is something important about your youness that stands to be preserved. But aside from what you have done, what else is there?"
I look towards the Spire. The heart in my chest whirs on at its regular speed. There is no increase, no wumbf womphh of love or recognition or need. I do remember those things though, if only distantly. They would be apt now, I think. "Fire, yes. The sunlight has made it quite mad. I believe that is the cause, anyways. "
"Is there?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "Hope is a disease here that many have not been inoculated against in a long time." I remind him. Warn him. Encourage him.
"They will not return you." I say simply. Where another might have shrugged, I merely stare. The snow is falling more heavily now. "Why do you seek to be remembered? If you have done things of merit, they will fall into the records. But I take it you mean that there is something important about your youness that stands to be preserved. But aside from what you have done, what else is there?"
I look towards the Spire. The heart in my chest whirs on at its regular speed. There is no increase, no wumbf womphh of love or recognition or need. I do remember those things though, if only distantly. They would be apt now, I think. "Fire, yes. The sunlight has made it quite mad. I believe that is the cause, anyways. "
