“I do not know,” Lucius said, waving to one of the old women who came daily to the shrine. “I’ve travelled so far in this life, I don’t know what a home is. I feel like Aeneas, adrift upon the sea, the old life burned away to ash.” He shook his head. “Forgive me. My mind is often melancholy before the light.”
Weylyn stared at him.
“Your children belong here too. They are…special.”
Lucius stared at him, his eyes colder then. “I’ll ask you to leave my children out of it. They have been through much.”
“The trials of this life do not stop for any man, woman, or child, I’m afraid. That is one certainty of the paths the Gods set before us.”
“I will keep them safe,” Lucius whispered to himself. “I must.”
“There is a place where that is possible, where safety is a certainty,” Weylyn said. “T
