“I knew an Assistant Secretary, once…” The flickering flames dance upon the logs. Strange and grotesque forms, rising and falling, undulating, feasting upon the dry wood. “But, I think he was only Acting, until the position could be properly filled..?”

“Pardon?” 

The spell is a weak one; it bursts at a single word. Dolce returns to himself with a start and a shake. “My apologies, I thought…my thoughts are a little mixed up. It’s been a rather long day, you understand.”

“Of course, of course. You musn’t forget; you don’t usually operate at this altitude. It takes a body time and energy to learn to cope with the thinner air.”

“I [i]thought[/i] I felt a little off. That must be it. It’s been ages since I last climbed anything taller than the road to the Mayor’s estate.”

“I haven’t pressed us too hard, have I?”

“Not at all, not at all. It’s the pleasant sort of tired, you know? Where you know you’ll sleep wonderfully deep, and even a sleeping bag on rocks feels like it’s made of clouds.”

They pause, drinking in the satisfaction of a day well-lived.

“Your dream sounds lovely.” Dolce continues. Rude, to be trusted with a treasure like that without a word to its value. “I wish everyone in Beri and everywhere could have as few troublesome years as possible.”

“It’s quite another thing to know your daily work makes it so. Like I said; there really is no higher pleasure.”

And a sheep thinks of kitchens, and feeding hungry faces. He thinks of Synnefo watching Ministers come and go, and different visions passing through the same soft hands. He sees the world through the eyes of this planet’s representative, and wonders what the view is like from elsewhere. His ears ring with the piercing words of the best orator he’s ever known. [i]A purpose…a purpose…everything for a purpose…[/i]

He wants to learn. He wants to help, and keep everyone safe. And there is only one way he can go from here.