[And he'll return with voice... it was easier than typing with claws (though he still stubbornly did it), and it spared everyone the poor state of his feathers.]
I've nothing but time for you Elidibus. And yes, I've noticed he's joined us for our reunion.
Indeed. My concern is that his place in the timeline does not appear to be congruent with ours. To him, the star has only just been sundered; he remembers naught of the following 12,000 years.
This presents a number of concerns. I cannot decide if it would be better to keep the truth from him or not... to say nothing of the fact that this would mean he should be tempered currently, adding to the complications.
To say nothing of the idea that he will bring that knowledge back with him into the past...
[He isn't sure of Emet-Selch's stance on the way the world is, the way it will ever remain, but he is sure of one thing, left drifting in the Aetherial Sea with his thoughts as he was: it is fine the way it is.
It almost feels shameful to think, much less to confess to after all of their time spent tempered and utterly convinced these people were less than people because they weren't the same people they once were. He spends a moment just quietly breathing, considering his next choice of words.]
It would not be the first time I have kept necessary secrets from Lahabrea, or indeed, any of the Convocation. But that does not mean I would enjoy doing it. I know full well he will eventually pursue answers, and I would be fool to think he doesn't already know we might be withholding something from him.
...Is it not tempting, though. If only in an offshoot timeline to ours, if we were forewarned about it all- what might have been?
[Could they have had it all?
Would he do it all over again, somehow seek another outcome? How couldn't he, if he had the slightest chance of bringing back their people? Nor did he regret anything that he'd done in pursuit of that task. And yet... to see the world as it was now, left in the last Azem's hands, he was satisfied. They'd earned their place, the chance to decide the path their star would take. He would move on.
If he wasn't here, made to have neither rest nor his people. (Apart from this small handful...)]
A more unusual option, but we could ask him if he would prefer to know the outcome.
I have wondered many, many times what might have been, both before and after my death. In many different scenarios. But since we are gifted with the clarity to consider all of our options now, rather than just the ones that fulfill Zodiark's narrative, I would see to it that we stay there.
[Elidibus is a little more heated about that initial assertion, remembering all the possibilities of later consequences he's sure they never considered as viable for selfish reasons... because the prospect of being scorned by their peers for their actions at duty's end was too painful to take into account, most likely. Even he isn't sure anymore. But his voice lowers as he continues, thoughtful.]
I suppose that is an option, but I still hesitate to furnish him with every last detail if he acquiesces. As it aligns with the duty of my seat anyway, I don't mind being the one to have the discussion, even knowing that I may have to tell him directly that certain things are not for him to know.
We're dead, we have naught left to do, even should we persist in this unwanted twilight. But I wouldn't be so quick to scorn another option, if one has presented itself in Lahabrea being from a time before us.
[Emet-Selch didn't need Zodiark's tempering to be unable to let go of the past. Even if they completed the Rejoinings, dealt with the Meteia before they could build strength enough to even pierce their god... it wouldn't return what had been.
But how could he not try? And yet, at the same time- he didn't wish to take the current world from their dear friend.]
Even so, I'll abide by your decision when it comes to what to tell him.
[Probably. It's not like he never put sentiment ahead of strict duty, like with the creation of the Azem crystal....]
...My opinion remains unchanged. Yet, even if we could cause a fork in the timeline this way, we are not the only ones capable of doing so, need I remind you.
[He knows, based upon his glimpse into the Crystal Exarch's memories, the greatest of mortal minds labored for several generations to see a time machine, of all things, come to fruition. Who's to say the same gambit wouldn't be possible again, thus rendering their newest attempt null and void?
His decision is swayed as much by emotion as it is by logic in this case; a small (actually kind of large) part of him wants to protect the timeline that saw him obtain closure, in a way that wouldn't have been possible had they brought their plan the full distance. He would still be without most of his memories. Would still not know any of their names or faces, just vague voices. Would not even know his own name, only his title. His duty.
And thus would he remain empty, most likely. But it is as much for the person he'd come to call a friend as it is for himself, too.]
I know you are only proposing the possibility, but know that I feel strongly enough about it that I would consider withholding any of this from Lahabrea at all. Should he come to you directly for the truth, or obtain it from some other source... well, I cannot control his actions, or anyone else's. But I appreciate your cooperation nonetheless.
...With that out of the way, how have you been faring? You've been quite reclusive lately. Have you figured out what your Natural Soul is, beyond just being an avian creature?
So because others might also interfere, we're forbidden from changing anything ourselves?
[Emet-Selch didn't quite know all the details himself, only that timelines had been altered, and not to their favor.
It wasn't as though he didn't understand what this would be asking of them, to go through it all again and potentially for longer. ...But that would be their future anyway, whether Lahabrea learned of their ultimate fates or not, and the true nature of the Final Days. At that point in time, how could any of them choose to give up? So Elidibus would once again lose the whole of himself to Zodiark, and Lahabrea would once again become that maddened wreck of a person, and Emet-Selch would persist with them, watching the whole thing, unable to stop either of their declines and sleeping as much as he could to avoid it all.
There's a short, irritated sound over his side of the line. No, he wouldn't go out of his way to inform Lahabrea of anything. But he didn't like it. Liking it was immaterial.
So he doesn't respond to that part at all, though to talk about the kind of bird he was did not put him in any greater mood. He did not want to be a bird. He did not enjoy being a bird.]
It's some manner of corvid. I haven't asked it to identify itself in any greater detail, and nor do I want to.
That isn't the main reason. Merely a counterpoint I thought crucial enough to raise.
[He keeps his voice as level as possible, betraying no hint of what he's feeling. But inside, it's chewing him up, much as he wishes they could have another chance. There's no question his contrariness should irritate Emet-Selch, especially when he hasn't been clear about his sudden shift in motivation, but at least they're still talking, and he hasn't hung up yet.]
Sufficient enough, then. I simply wanted to know in case it becomes more important in the future. I don't much care for this unwanted roommate, myself, but knowing is half the battle in this case.
[After a moment, he pauses with a small hum, considering whether to let slip the next thing he wants to say or not.]
...You must know already, don't you? That it was I who sent the Warrior of Light into the past from the Crystal Tower on the First.
[There was no easy, no comfortable answer. The conflict of it in itself has him irritable- and not even towards Elidibus. Because it was hard to disagree with him. He wasn't wrong.
Ideally, they would both still be dead and none of this would even be a consideration. Everyone had played their parts, the star had been saved... and yet here the three of them were, with Lahabrea lagging behind them. A complication- and a hope- that hadn't been asked for.
Having to watch himself distort into a bird was even more insulting. Weren't things unfair enough, but he had to sit here and feel his soul be corrupted not by the god who had saved their star, but some lowly crow-like creature.]
I wouldn't expect great things from the beast they paired me with. It's provided me with nothing positive.
[So if they fell into some new crisis here, he would have nothing special to aim towards it.
The change in topic has him pause as well, answering with a sigh.]
But yes, I had some idea that it was you. There's precious few others who would have been capable of it.
Even so, it seems we will receive no other boons from those in power. So I still think it would be to our benefit to at least get along with it.
[Call him a hypocrite, for he hasn't quite tamed his bird yet, but at least he's trying. To see Emet-Selch retreating and staying reclusive is troubling.]
Then I think it would be appropriate to tell you the reason I wish to preserve the timeline the way it is. My memories are scattered, but I remember interacting with the Warrior of Light during an investigation in Elpis, clear as day. During that time, we grew to be friends, even though they must have known what I would become, and what I would attempt to do eons later without any memory of those days.
And so I find myself at a difficult crossroads, and my heart pulls me in a different direction from my duty. I know I should allow for that second chance, for the sake of all those we loved, but... a surprisingly large part of me does not want to. Even if it means continuing along that path, and having to go through it all again... our time together had meaning, Emet-Selch. Meaning I would hesitate to try and discard simply for want of the past.
If the bird is a boon, I'm afraid to imagine what they consider a penalty.
[It's a good attempt at dry, but edges too close to bitter at the end. He was not prepared to accept this other soul.
More important somehow was a hypothetical and a history, and Emet-Selch is quiet for some time after Elidibus concludes; nothing but the occasional tap of a claw gives away that the line was still live.]
...You certainly mentioned nothing of this to the Convocation.
[Something had happened in Elpis- and not all that long after the whole situation with Hermes and Meteion. Emet-Selch knew that much; he remembered the meeting in Amaurot that had loosely summarized some problem in Pandæmonium. But it had all been sorted.
That the Warrior of Light had been involved (or rather, any description of their presence or existence), and had forged some friendship with Elidibus- was a new and unwanted complication.]
I've no desire to erase what few good memories remain to you. Nor do I wish to extinguish what our friend has fought for. But there's nothing simple about a want for the past, Elidibus.
[It had been easier to just be dead and not have to face even the glimmer of opportunity. He felt strongly in both directions and had no answer for it.]
The investigation ended as well as it could have, and I made mention of any relevant information in my report. That is all.
[Which is to say, he left out the incredibly personal bits pertaining to Lahabrea and Erichthonios on purpose, only that an unknown, ill-begotten entity was manipulating the space around and within Pandaemonium, and the fate of the keywards therein. Not his identity, nor Athena's indirect involvement...]
As I have withheld information from Lahabrea in the past, so too have I withheld information from you, and indeed the Convocation as a whole at times. This shouldn't come as a surprise, given the obligations of my seat.
[He remains completely stoic. Yet, the change in Lahabrea couldn't escape Emet-Selch's eyes, nor that of anyone else close to him, it seems. Unfortunately, this is beginning to turn into a rehearsal of the coming conversation with Lahabrea before he's even said a word to him.
A brief shift on his end of the line.]
We could split the timeline. Or... perhaps that split already existed in the first place, without the need for our intervention at all. But the result would not be for us. You recall the cardinal rule of time travel into the past, I am sure -- our success would be only for those echoes of ourselves in a distant future, far, far away from yours and mine.
Besides... I have always asked you not to remind me of what I lost, ere I lose something so precious again and again; now that the void is gone, I could never agree to part with it a final time. Not even if it meant a chance to see Amaurot once more. What would be the point, if I could not even have the sense of nostalgia and relief that came with it? If the people there were but strangers to me?
[Even though it can't be seen, Emet-Selch waves it off.]
Oh, I know it happens.
[There's no resentment in that, really. That Elidibus occasionally kept things from them- that was an element of his station, and one that didn't undermine the trust inherent in him. It was just a touch exasperating this time, and more in the direction of the Warrior of Light being involved in something else in the old world.
And depressing, to think that once they'd reached the modern era, Elidibus had forgotten about the whole thing. They'd both encountered the same fragment of Azem, and had no memory of it until it was all over.]
Even if it would not be for ourselves to see, our stories concluded and sealed, for there to be a chance of an offshoot succeeding where we had failed--
[Emet-Selch is far less stoic about it. This wasn't something he could approach neutrally, without emotion bleeding clear and sharp into it. It's not anger though, not towards Elidibus, or anyone; it's grief most of all.]
If you understand now the preciousness of those memories- then you should understand why I can't let go of mine. In the eons that have passed, I've never forgotten Amaurot, or our people- the reason for our duty. I can no more give that up, than you can the fragments you've regained. For our people, our star- I can recall the point. With you and Lahabrea wasting away into shadows of yourselves, I was the only one who did.
[He opens his mouth, takes a breath as if to reply, then closes it. To say he isn't plagued by the same feelings would be a lie, and he's sure they both know it. Instead, he ends up making a dissatisfied noise, pausing for a long moment.]
Perhaps it is that I am attempting to convince myself of it. That the star is worth saving the way it is, despite our unshakable attachment to the past.
[And it worked, at least for a little while.
There's a scratching noise that sounds like his clawed fingers digging into the wood of a desk. It is a quandary as old as time; save an innumerable amount of people for the greater overall good, or one important person you care for on a personal level? So it becomes a question of which they care for more.]
...As I have told you before, I cannot control what actions you take, not am I interested in policing you or Lahabrea. If push comes to shove and you need to come clean to him, do so. But I know you, and I know how fond you became of the Warrior of Light, the ghostly trace of the friend you saw in that soul. If it were simply a matter of which you care about more, I know you would choose Amaurot, but the truth is, you can't just discard one for the other and feel no remorse about the path not taken.
That's the reason you won't tell him, not because you agree with my opinion. And so are we both hesitant to act in either direction.
...I already said I would abide by your choice, Elidibus. Is there a point to driving in where our preferences differ?
[A more irritable tone, more defensive.]
I would choose Amaurot, would elect to have something new to grieve. That hesitation- you say this as though I'm unaware of it. You're revealing nothing more than what I've told you in this same conversation.
[That he neither wanted to erase the current world, or this version of his friend. He would, if it came down to it- if the opportunity actually presented itself. Lahabrea wasn't that opportunity, only the shadow of the possibility of a hope.]
[The defensiveness means he's right, like as not, but it's probably wise to ease off of him at this point. A shifting of fabric, and a sigh as he leans back in his chair.]
...Aye. I suppose we three have always been this way, even as Ascians. The only thing we were fully committed to was Zodiark, and He alone. I wonder sometimes whether His will was a stronger driving force than the desire to reclaim the past we were forced to leave behind.
I suppose so long as things stay this way, outside of extenuating circumstances, then I've nothing more to discuss at this time. But, and I ask this as a friend... try not to let yourself fall too deeply into isolation. It breeds complacence, and moreover, it's just lonely when you're the only one who feels the full weight of the burden you bear. Hythlodaeus surely must feel the same way.
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voice
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I've nothing but time for you Elidibus. And yes, I've noticed he's joined us for our reunion.
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This presents a number of concerns. I cannot decide if it would be better to keep the truth from him or not... to say nothing of the fact that this would mean he should be tempered currently, adding to the complications.
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[At least he remembered the sundering. That would have been even more complicated to hide, and a more miserable fate to have to deliver.
There's another sigh over the Syntrofos. (Also a background clicking as his claws absently tap against the side of it.]
I would dislike keeping it from him. I'm similarly loathe to deliver the bad news that we failed, and failed after twelve-thousand years of effort.
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[He isn't sure of Emet-Selch's stance on the way the world is, the way it will ever remain, but he is sure of one thing, left drifting in the Aetherial Sea with his thoughts as he was: it is fine the way it is.
It almost feels shameful to think, much less to confess to after all of their time spent tempered and utterly convinced these people were less than people because they weren't the same people they once were. He spends a moment just quietly breathing, considering his next choice of words.]
It would not be the first time I have kept necessary secrets from Lahabrea, or indeed, any of the Convocation. But that does not mean I would enjoy doing it. I know full well he will eventually pursue answers, and I would be fool to think he doesn't already know we might be withholding something from him.
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[Could they have had it all?
Would he do it all over again, somehow seek another outcome? How couldn't he, if he had the slightest chance of bringing back their people? Nor did he regret anything that he'd done in pursuit of that task. And yet... to see the world as it was now, left in the last Azem's hands, he was satisfied. They'd earned their place, the chance to decide the path their star would take. He would move on.
If he wasn't here, made to have neither rest nor his people. (Apart from this small handful...)]
A more unusual option, but we could ask him if he would prefer to know the outcome.
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[Elidibus is a little more heated about that initial assertion, remembering all the possibilities of later consequences he's sure they never considered as viable for selfish reasons... because the prospect of being scorned by their peers for their actions at duty's end was too painful to take into account, most likely. Even he isn't sure anymore. But his voice lowers as he continues, thoughtful.]
I suppose that is an option, but I still hesitate to furnish him with every last detail if he acquiesces. As it aligns with the duty of my seat anyway, I don't mind being the one to have the discussion, even knowing that I may have to tell him directly that certain things are not for him to know.
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[Emet-Selch didn't need Zodiark's tempering to be unable to let go of the past. Even if they completed the Rejoinings, dealt with the Meteia before they could build strength enough to even pierce their god... it wouldn't return what had been.
But how could he not try? And yet, at the same time- he didn't wish to take the current world from their dear friend.]
Even so, I'll abide by your decision when it comes to what to tell him.
[Probably. It's not like he never put sentiment ahead of strict duty, like with the creation of the Azem crystal....]
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...My opinion remains unchanged. Yet, even if we could cause a fork in the timeline this way, we are not the only ones capable of doing so, need I remind you.
[He knows, based upon his glimpse into the Crystal Exarch's memories, the greatest of mortal minds labored for several generations to see a time machine, of all things, come to fruition. Who's to say the same gambit wouldn't be possible again, thus rendering their newest attempt null and void?
His decision is swayed as much by emotion as it is by logic in this case; a small (actually kind of large) part of him wants to protect the timeline that saw him obtain closure, in a way that wouldn't have been possible had they brought their plan the full distance. He would still be without most of his memories. Would still not know any of their names or faces, just vague voices. Would not even know his own name, only his title. His duty.
And thus would he remain empty, most likely. But it is as much for the person he'd come to call a friend as it is for himself, too.]
I know you are only proposing the possibility, but know that I feel strongly enough about it that I would consider withholding any of this from Lahabrea at all. Should he come to you directly for the truth, or obtain it from some other source... well, I cannot control his actions, or anyone else's. But I appreciate your cooperation nonetheless.
...With that out of the way, how have you been faring? You've been quite reclusive lately. Have you figured out what your Natural Soul is, beyond just being an avian creature?
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[Emet-Selch didn't quite know all the details himself, only that timelines had been altered, and not to their favor.
It wasn't as though he didn't understand what this would be asking of them, to go through it all again and potentially for longer. ...But that would be their future anyway, whether Lahabrea learned of their ultimate fates or not, and the true nature of the Final Days. At that point in time, how could any of them choose to give up? So Elidibus would once again lose the whole of himself to Zodiark, and Lahabrea would once again become that maddened wreck of a person, and Emet-Selch would persist with them, watching the whole thing, unable to stop either of their declines and sleeping as much as he could to avoid it all.
There's a short, irritated sound over his side of the line. No, he wouldn't go out of his way to inform Lahabrea of anything. But he didn't like it. Liking it was immaterial.
So he doesn't respond to that part at all, though to talk about the kind of bird he was did not put him in any greater mood. He did not want to be a bird. He did not enjoy being a bird.]
It's some manner of corvid. I haven't asked it to identify itself in any greater detail, and nor do I want to.
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[He keeps his voice as level as possible, betraying no hint of what he's feeling. But inside, it's chewing him up, much as he wishes they could have another chance. There's no question his contrariness should irritate Emet-Selch, especially when he hasn't been clear about his sudden shift in motivation, but at least they're still talking, and he hasn't hung up yet.]
Sufficient enough, then. I simply wanted to know in case it becomes more important in the future. I don't much care for this unwanted roommate, myself, but knowing is half the battle in this case.
[After a moment, he pauses with a small hum, considering whether to let slip the next thing he wants to say or not.]
...You must know already, don't you? That it was I who sent the Warrior of Light into the past from the Crystal Tower on the First.
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Ideally, they would both still be dead and none of this would even be a consideration. Everyone had played their parts, the star had been saved... and yet here the three of them were, with Lahabrea lagging behind them. A complication- and a hope- that hadn't been asked for.
Having to watch himself distort into a bird was even more insulting. Weren't things unfair enough, but he had to sit here and feel his soul be corrupted not by the god who had saved their star, but some lowly crow-like creature.]
I wouldn't expect great things from the beast they paired me with. It's provided me with nothing positive.
[So if they fell into some new crisis here, he would have nothing special to aim towards it.
The change in topic has him pause as well, answering with a sigh.]
But yes, I had some idea that it was you. There's precious few others who would have been capable of it.
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[Call him a hypocrite, for he hasn't quite tamed his bird yet, but at least he's trying. To see Emet-Selch retreating and staying reclusive is troubling.]
Then I think it would be appropriate to tell you the reason I wish to preserve the timeline the way it is. My memories are scattered, but I remember interacting with the Warrior of Light during an investigation in Elpis, clear as day. During that time, we grew to be friends, even though they must have known what I would become, and what I would attempt to do eons later without any memory of those days.
And so I find myself at a difficult crossroads, and my heart pulls me in a different direction from my duty. I know I should allow for that second chance, for the sake of all those we loved, but... a surprisingly large part of me does not want to. Even if it means continuing along that path, and having to go through it all again... our time together had meaning, Emet-Selch. Meaning I would hesitate to try and discard simply for want of the past.
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[It's a good attempt at dry, but edges too close to bitter at the end. He was not prepared to accept this other soul.
More important somehow was a hypothetical and a history, and Emet-Selch is quiet for some time after Elidibus concludes; nothing but the occasional tap of a claw gives away that the line was still live.]
...You certainly mentioned nothing of this to the Convocation.
[Something had happened in Elpis- and not all that long after the whole situation with Hermes and Meteion. Emet-Selch knew that much; he remembered the meeting in Amaurot that had loosely summarized some problem in Pandæmonium. But it had all been sorted.
That the Warrior of Light had been involved (or rather, any description of their presence or existence), and had forged some friendship with Elidibus- was a new and unwanted complication.]
I've no desire to erase what few good memories remain to you. Nor do I wish to extinguish what our friend has fought for. But there's nothing simple about a want for the past, Elidibus.
[It had been easier to just be dead and not have to face even the glimmer of opportunity. He felt strongly in both directions and had no answer for it.]
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[Which is to say, he left out the incredibly personal bits pertaining to Lahabrea and Erichthonios on purpose, only that an unknown, ill-begotten entity was manipulating the space around and within Pandaemonium, and the fate of the keywards therein. Not his identity, nor Athena's indirect involvement...]
As I have withheld information from Lahabrea in the past, so too have I withheld information from you, and indeed the Convocation as a whole at times. This shouldn't come as a surprise, given the obligations of my seat.
[He remains completely stoic. Yet, the change in Lahabrea couldn't escape Emet-Selch's eyes, nor that of anyone else close to him, it seems. Unfortunately, this is beginning to turn into a rehearsal of the coming conversation with Lahabrea before he's even said a word to him.
A brief shift on his end of the line.]
We could split the timeline. Or... perhaps that split already existed in the first place, without the need for our intervention at all. But the result would not be for us. You recall the cardinal rule of time travel into the past, I am sure -- our success would be only for those echoes of ourselves in a distant future, far, far away from yours and mine.
Besides... I have always asked you not to remind me of what I lost, ere I lose something so precious again and again; now that the void is gone, I could never agree to part with it a final time. Not even if it meant a chance to see Amaurot once more. What would be the point, if I could not even have the sense of nostalgia and relief that came with it? If the people there were but strangers to me?
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Oh, I know it happens.
[There's no resentment in that, really. That Elidibus occasionally kept things from them- that was an element of his station, and one that didn't undermine the trust inherent in him. It was just a touch exasperating this time, and more in the direction of the Warrior of Light being involved in something else in the old world.
And depressing, to think that once they'd reached the modern era, Elidibus had forgotten about the whole thing. They'd both encountered the same fragment of Azem, and had no memory of it until it was all over.]
Even if it would not be for ourselves to see, our stories concluded and sealed, for there to be a chance of an offshoot succeeding where we had failed--
[Emet-Selch is far less stoic about it. This wasn't something he could approach neutrally, without emotion bleeding clear and sharp into it. It's not anger though, not towards Elidibus, or anyone; it's grief most of all.]
If you understand now the preciousness of those memories- then you should understand why I can't let go of mine. In the eons that have passed, I've never forgotten Amaurot, or our people- the reason for our duty. I can no more give that up, than you can the fragments you've regained. For our people, our star- I can recall the point. With you and Lahabrea wasting away into shadows of yourselves, I was the only one who did.
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Perhaps it is that I am attempting to convince myself of it. That the star is worth saving the way it is, despite our unshakable attachment to the past.
[And it worked, at least for a little while.
There's a scratching noise that sounds like his clawed fingers digging into the wood of a desk. It is a quandary as old as time; save an innumerable amount of people for the greater overall good, or one important person you care for on a personal level? So it becomes a question of which they care for more.]
...As I have told you before, I cannot control what actions you take, not am I interested in policing you or Lahabrea. If push comes to shove and you need to come clean to him, do so. But I know you, and I know how fond you became of the Warrior of Light, the ghostly trace of the friend you saw in that soul. If it were simply a matter of which you care about more, I know you would choose Amaurot, but the truth is, you can't just discard one for the other and feel no remorse about the path not taken.
That's the reason you won't tell him, not because you agree with my opinion. And so are we both hesitant to act in either direction.
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[A more irritable tone, more defensive.]
I would choose Amaurot, would elect to have something new to grieve. That hesitation- you say this as though I'm unaware of it. You're revealing nothing more than what I've told you in this same conversation.
[That he neither wanted to erase the current world, or this version of his friend. He would, if it came down to it- if the opportunity actually presented itself. Lahabrea wasn't that opportunity, only the shadow of the possibility of a hope.]
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...Aye. I suppose we three have always been this way, even as Ascians. The only thing we were fully committed to was Zodiark, and He alone. I wonder sometimes whether His will was a stronger driving force than the desire to reclaim the past we were forced to leave behind.
I suppose so long as things stay this way, outside of extenuating circumstances, then I've nothing more to discuss at this time. But, and I ask this as a friend... try not to let yourself fall too deeply into isolation. It breeds complacence, and moreover, it's just lonely when you're the only one who feels the full weight of the burden you bear. Hythlodaeus surely must feel the same way.