Perhaps it was a bit forward of him to ask for weeks when he could not even get seconds to ponder Hades’ warning before his body interrupted. Away the quiet. Return to chaos.

All that is familiar is dead. And yet, he still lives. His fingers are completely covered in a disgusting sludge of stew and sauces, and somehow that revulsion stands preeminent above the horror. Vasilia did always fuss about her coat when she was badly hurt. Never understood that, before now.

The mouse has long since run out of tears. Her arms tremble to hold back the shaking that wracks her body, for sorrow is not done with her. He tells his hand to rise, to reach out for her sleeve. His arm wails a dirge of weakness so terrible it sends him into a coughing fit. But dead bodies couldn’t breathe, much less cough, so perhaps that got the message across well enough. 

"Excuse me?" Please miss, don’t take his rasping for growling. He’s not angry. This is just the only voice he has right now. "Could you help me stand up? I, I don't know if if I can manage it on my own."

***********************************

Mark of a good host; timely deployment of distraction.

Vasilia consumes the demonstration as only one with incomplete inexperience can. Yes. [i]Yes.[/i] Wasn’t it obvious, after seeing the trick explained? How many battles had she snatched up an opponent’s blade by pure, happy luck, or a bit of rubble just when she needed something to throw? Yet she’d never considered doing so deliberately. How much could one Glaive carry? How much contact was required? For how long? Mmm. Oh, there would be devising indeed.

So taken was she that she almost forgot not to fiercely scowl at her host when he rudely drew her attention back to the ring around her finger. Almost. Thankfully for everyone’s sake, she managed to stop her mouth as it arrived at a thoughtful grimace. “You're getting ahead of things, sir Knight. How was I to think of marrying her, when I didn’t even know what we had? What I wanted us to have? That part, I put off until much, much later. There was so much else on my mind besides.”

“I hit a wall, after those first games. Downside of of having everyone's eyes on you, you have [i]everyone's[/i] eyes on you. There was only so much that surprise and natural talent could do in the face of entrenched power. And nothing unites adversaries quite like a common threat. My style - the Mad Orbit, yes? - was skilled against single armored opponents, but the scroll didn't have any techniques useful against bribed officials and overwhelming numbers. Other troublemakers, they could always sponsor a challenger at the next games, but I was just a little too good for them to ever knock me out completely. But they could keep a fair number of medals out of my pocket. They could keep me out of the higher positions in the Senate.” 

“What other means did I have to rise higher? Oh, I had popular support, but this was not the Empire, where an Empress controls all. I was but one Senator of many. I needed their support, not the people’s, if anything was to get done. When they weren't busy keeping my power in check, the other Senators loved to have me around, hoping a little of my fame might rub off on them. But as soon as I started suggesting that they ought to spend a little less on their personal projects, no one would give me the time of day. No skill in oratory could overcome the sheer apathy they felt to the suffering that was in their power to end. The suffering they regularly profitted from. And time...ah, time was always on their side.”

“I still remember it clearly: Some idiotic over-mining for scrap had polluted a major water supply, leading to a terrible famine that year. I fought to put together a relief effort, and how they made me fight for it. Ninety percent of our funds were harvested from slimming down my own projects to the bone, and it wasn’t even a quarter of what we needed. The other ten percent? Pocket change, from Senators seeking to keep me off their backs for a day. We [i]needed[/i] help. And my opposition knew how little room we had to bargain. A distasteful fellow by the name of Demetris headed up the resistance to my proposal, and he made it abundantly clear that we would have to personally provide a high enough profit before he would deign to spend a thing on worthless peasants. I could have stayed the course, and let them starve. Or, I could. Pursue other means.”

“Demetris never missed the races. Always happy to wax at length about how nothing brought out the true competitive spirit quite like hunger and desperation. He was their biggest patron, both on and off the books.  One day, he ‘happened’ to bump into me in the VIP section. It was my first time there, you see, never had the time to accept his previous invitations. Wouldn’t he tell me a little more about it all?”

“Before the month’s end, Demetris and all his cronies voted unanimously in favor of my relief bill. And I...I quietly nullified every motion of censure I’d ever made in connection to the races, and never spoke an ill word of them again.”

“That was my first betrayal. The first little hope I sacrificed. It would have plenty of company, before long, but I never felt it so keenly after the first time. I knew that I was crossing lines that I did not want to. But every step felt so justifiable when I was taking it. The ends so necessary that the means weren't all that despicable. Whenever my conscience ate at me too much for comfort, I always had my crowds. One look into those cheering faces and all my worries seemed so silly. Wasn't this just what I had dreamed? The three of us, walking the halls of power, making the world a better place? Clarissa never seemed to wrestle with the same doubts. Alethea didn't always approve, but, well, she was always a bit of a stick in the mud, wasn't she? What was one rebuke when I had entire arenas chanting my name?”

Her fingers found her ring. Back and forth, they twisted it. Keeping it from settling in too securely. 

“I never knew how completely someone could fade away, and never notice just how far they’d fallen.”

Someone else ought to be hearing this story too. She did not know what to make of the relief his absence brought her.