He could not bring himself to be rid of you.

Even if it was in his best interest to do so, the thought only seemed to bring him heartache.

Instead, he separated both sides and confined them to distant areas of his medium, in what you can only assume was the hope that enough space and time would naturally dissolve the issue.

What followed was resentment and fervent appeal in equal measure.

Neither Derse nor Prospit would understand the meaning behind The Scribe's last wisdom, warping it into new justifications to use old tactics for many more sessions to come.