It cannot be helped: I cannot help but laugh at his speech regarding my connection to Asteraia. It is a hollow laugh, and yet, truly it is one most honest. Perhaps they are my history or future, and yet, his concern for such a thing is laughable.

"You tell me that procreating is easy. Yet, you say to watch these children closely. Can they not be replaced easily?"

I query him with a shrug of my shoulders and a twitch of my brow, though little more. I cannot say for certain that I have that much concern for those children in Asteraia. They are an experiment, in a sense, I suppose. I wish to see just how well I can personally reduce weakness. Renai had been small and feeble and yet, it seemed she had birthed two strong enough children at the expense of her own strength. It had been a similar case with Achlys. Perhaps there is something to it I do not understand entirely. Nonetheless, I do not think I would be so upset if another registered them as weak and disposed of them. Not yet, at least. Once they have... personalities, I suppose I may be more inclined to actually enjoy them.

I have little to say in regards to their particular names. After all, Achlys had been given the choice to name and I do not regret it. The daughter is hers entirely, or at least more so. Besides, what does a name matter? It is power, yes, but it can always be concealed behind a new one. I had lived as Castor for long enough to know. It is his mention, however, of deformity in his blood that returns my attention entirely to him, an ear flickering in his direction as I absorb his words. His words hold a particular interest to me. They mirror my own. I cannot help but narrow my eyes in thought, nodding quietly in agreement.

"Yes, I have little... intention of allowing any to experience weakness. Be it now or when they grow old. Weakness is weakness. It is a service to remove it from those around us."

He knows this and thus, I cannot help but grin to myself - and to him, perhaps, if he watches so closely. He knows weakness must be purged. It is a service. His legs are not as sturdy as they once were; his eyes and mind not as sharp. Surely he can feel the weakness in his blood like a coldness. He knows it is time. He must.

He falters then, though it is not the faltering of a weak limb. It is a selective one. Perhaps he has noticed the way we have traveled so far west, though Asteraia lies to the north. As calmly as ever, I turn towards him. I can smell the familiarity in the air around us - he is nearby, I am sure. Perhaps we have not reached the precise location but I am sure our alleged attacker will know to come. He has always been punctual, after all.

"Yes," I begin simply, settling back comfortably as I watch him closely, "I thought perhaps you might enjoy experiencing the vastness of these lands once more. You do not leave Diveen so often anymore. Surely you feel... confined."

Though I appear relaxed, my muscles twitch beneath my flesh with anticipation and readiness. If he moves to run or perhaps even to attack, then I will surely be prepared. It would not hurt to see one final moment of strength from him before the weakness takes him entirely.

"I have always wondered what it is like to be confined by one's own body. I want to help you, Heyel. That is the reason I have brought you here."

I smile then, so serenely. Surely he is close now. I wish to help, yes, but tonight it will be Solaris that truly frees an old man from his shackles.