I have witnessed dar too much, and you have given me too little. Finally, I can see.

Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.

You could've asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.

The alliance is reforged, mortal. The planes thus quake, and the gods shudder.

You were never burdened with intelligence, but your load seems to be especially light these days.