The Ceronians believe that they are dead. The angry Auspex believes that they are alive. Yes, Redana can see the green health crosses next to them. Thank you, Auspex. Hades is here, but is giving no indication as to whether they are all dead and the Auspex has been deceived by the veil of life draped over the town as Hades’ kindness, or whether he has merely allowed them to believe they are dead because it is a salve to their pride, or whether their state of life is connected to their belief in their life or its absence. Maybe this is Elysium. Maybe she is squatting down next to two decayed, brittle skeletons. Or maybe this paradise merely overwhelms them, make them feel that in life they could not ever deserve this, that they would have to take up arms and continue on to the next battle.

In short, it’s all Philosophy, and the easiest way to handle Philosophy is to just wait until it makes sense in the end.

Or to make an assertion of your own.

“She’ll never be happy here until she’s had the chance to leave,” Redana says, with all the conviction of an Empress-to-be. “If she is allowed to leave... she’s more likely to come back than if you lock her up to keep her safe, and tell her that the Empire depends on her, and if anything happened to Queen Hatchan, it would be her responsibility to continue everything that Hatchan did before her, and that she can never, ever leave. Not until the work is done. But it will never be done, and the stars are calling her name: Epistia, Epistia, we are beautiful and forever and we have treasures you never would have dreamed about, like leviathans of the void drifting in storms of sapphires...”

She slings her ponytail over her shoulder and rubs the sapphire beads woven into them by Hades’ clever fingers. “I’m going to make her smile. And I’m going to offer her the stars. And even if this place is dimmed, there will still be that beautiful sun, and the forever rain, and mangroves growing, and Elysium here, forever. So please, Leon, Sands, take me to meet Epistia. I don’t know whether she’ll stay or go, but all I know is that I [i]will[/i] make her smile. I have promised no less than her father to bring one to her.”

And her eyes are bright, and her hair gleams underneath the light of that roaring star, and for a moment she is like her mother must once have been, fervent and bold and burdened with an overflowing heart.

But just for a moment.

[Talk Sense with Grace: [b]6[/b].]