She nods slowly.

"I am more than thirty-four centuries old," she says. "I have seen a lot of things. I may not live forever, but I will certainly live a very long time. All the people I met last time I left the mountain are dead, and so are all of their children and grandchildren. My father and I are the last living speakers of Ansati and one day we will probably be the last living speakers of Nathuremi as well. Things don't last. And I am not a library. I can't... hold three thousand years of history in my head like books on a shelf, serene and untouched. When I meet someone, and care for them, and they die, I carry that weight forever. If I fill my memory with all the vanished wonders of the world, there won't be any room left for me."

Solemn nod.

"I would never want you to grow so concerned with preserving the world that you fail to preserve yourself," she agrees. "But I think there is more than just miserable memories held for the preservation of the good that once was in the world. There is something very - sad, very lonely, about keeping oneself an island as all the world moves around without you. I would want to spare you the pain of isolation by choice and by time, both."

She considers.

"I believe that the most elegant solution I can offer is to live forever." Smile. "I hope you don't object."

"Not at all."

"Excellent. Then that's decided. Now I merely need to figure out the how."

"There are ways."

"I would assume so, considering." She waves a hand to Irikaino, amused. "But I think I'll not carve my continued existence from the pain of others. I suppose I'll have to look into the rumors of the old capital."

"Lady Rivethira asked Father to clear it out."

"Ah." She considers this. "I believe that if I were less grateful to her for her foresight, I might be annoyed with her for removing all of the narrative weight from my actions. Am I to be but a shadow, flitting after her steps until the end of time? Well. At least she walks to places I'd like to go."

"You've already done one thing she hasn't."

She thinks of asking Serik to resurrect her parents, and smiles, a little.

"... So I have," she agrees, sounding immensely pleased with herself.

Irikaino smiles too.

"A good thing, too, because I believe I'd rather not follow her example in regards to your father. Best that I am free to walk where I like."

Thoughtful nod.

"Regardless. I suppose that makes my quest very straightforward. Do you expect that I could just ask your father to fetch a truly ridiculous amount of water from the fountains, that I will then hoard as if my life depended on it? Which, of course, it would."

"He's thinking of trying to duplicate them, actually. But in the meantime, yes, he will keep both of you supplied."

"Well. That makes living forever a task that requires little trouble at all. I merely need to avoid doing anything lifethreatening or wandering off somewhere I couldn't be found by an all powerful sorcerer. How ever will I accomplish it."

"Accidents do happen. But I think you will probably be okay."

"Yes, probably. So instead of the trouble of worrying of how to lengthen the time I have, I have the trouble of figuring out what to do with it."

She seems to find this amusing.

"Will that be difficult?"

"Perhaps, but I can always ask an expert. What do you do with your time?"

"I read. And work on spell design."

"For what sorts of spells?"

"Mostly solving problems my father created thousands of years ago when he was building the spell that makes us immortal and holds the swans."

"Ah. And what will you do when you run out?"