Lunise knew what she wanted to say before Meesei had finished. She tilted her head to one side. "Mother also told me something else, as it happens. 'Fate is a lie,' she said." Lunise took a deeper breath. "Her position puts weight to those words. And while there is little doubt of the unique and difficult nature of this, to say it is impossible begs the question of what you are assuming."

Meesei's hand was wrapped fully in Lunise's as she continued. "You are assuming that you were made for the purpose of collapsing upon death. You do not know that. The Hist may have even made you with the knowledge that you could solve this problem. You are assuming that this theory of the Psijics is as good as fact. No one knows that -- it is a guess based on incomplete information. You are assuming that you are not surrounded by incredibly talented people both here and on Tamriel that can and will help you."

Just as Lunise was about to remind Meesei of her family again, she stopped, closed her mouth, and furrowed her brow. "Meesei, are you absolutely certain that you cannot face a new problem?" She raised a finger and pressed it, crooked, against her lips. A new energy entered her voice. "I know of one problem you solved that could never have been a part of some Hist-carried late Argonian soul. Indeed, all lycan souls go to the Hunting Grounds. It follows, then, that a lycan mage who learnt to channel magic whilst in a transformed state would not have returned to the Hist upon their demise." She sat up straight, tall over where Meesei sat. "Meesei, I think it reasonable for you to assume full credit for [i]that[/i] particular impossibility. And do not [i]dare[/i] to assume that feat means nothing. I would not resort to violence against you, but know that I would consider my position carefully in the pursuit of slapping that falsehood out of your mind."