[His is a rage that breaks human bounds, a rage so tremendous and earth-shaking that the deathless gods feared it might overthrow Fate by toppling well-built Troy before its decreed day of doom. It is little wonder, then, that he invades the realm of those cursed by death undone, a realm which no living man ought to tread.]

There are many among this crew who refuse to see the world from where his fellow stands. This I too know well: you and I have both had our share of scorn.

[He watches as Koltira gathers his crafting tools, in shape like an ordinary man at work. One might forget the cracked ice of his skin, the blue fire of his eyes intent on the task before him.]

How strange it is that now I can scarce recall what it was that drove us to such loathing. How long ago was it that Nalanni who delights in volcanoes and wave-ruling Ryba faded from life as smoke dissipates upon the wind and tides go out to sea? I called you mad for purposing to slay the gods whom the Achaeans call deathless. How was I to know that they could suffer death as mortals do? Yet I called you mad, just as others have called me a fool for challenging you. For this I owe you an apology, as we let bygones be bygones. I wonder now how this might have gone had we met on a different day - do we truly disagree on so much, and agree on so little?