Garden song

Gwenevere was his mother. Ah yes, of course; she knew that her daughter had given birth to children of her own, somewhat later in life compared to Epiphron's own experience. "Cairo was a good man," she explained slowly. "You're lucky to have his name." She had no doubt that his mother had seen in him something like the grandfather she'd never had the privilege of knowing. Perhaps he was a natural leader like her own father had been; a caretaker at heart who would sacrifice everything for those he loved. Even if had just a fraction of her father's spirit he would amount to be a great man, and she didn't doubt that he would. It seemed he understood living up to the legacy of his namesake was no easy task but she hoped it would be a comfort to him rather than a burden too heavy for him to carry.

She was glad to know that Valhalla had stood the test of time, at least in one form or another, and it was no surprise than one of Erani's descendants was responsible. Epiphron allowed herself a small smile. The question he asked next tugged faintly at her heartstrings. She could not lie to him, as badly as she wanted to reassure him. "Truthfully, I don't know. I'm not sure why I'm here - though I'm sure it won't be for long." Already she felt the fabric between reality and the afterlife beginning to pull taut; she felt the world slowly shifting in and out of focus. "I didn't choose to come back. It just happened. If your mother could will herself to be here, talking to you again, I know with all my heart that she would be." Her smile was warm and comforting, and she hoped her answer didn't cause him too much pain. The truth was that she was just as mystified as how she was here talking to her grandson as he was, though she knew nothing was permanent and this likely would end before she realized it.