#stunt

"If the very star itself was at risk, what would you do?" Venat finished.

She opened her eyes slowly, momentarily disoriented.

"Where are we?" she asked, carefully.

"In your atelier. Lost in another of your daydreams?"

"I ... think so, yes. There was a warrior, in the deep void between stars. A nursery of sorts, about to hatch despair."

Venat smiled. "Your descriptions of your visions never cease to amaze."

"Hmn," she said, shaking her head clear. "Sorry. What was your question again?"

"I was wondering what you might do if the star was threatened with ruin?"

"Such weighty questions! Something I should know about?"

"Just curious."

"You are just curious the way I am just curious."

"Well, you were my student at one point."

"Still am," she said, turning more fully to face Venat, leaning against her work table. "The star, though? Well, help people. Ask questions. Make a record. Though I doubt the entire star will rise or fall on the fulcrum of one person."

"You think so?"

"The star was here before we were. And will be after. A bit arrogant to think it cares overmuch about our actions, or lack thereof, on its behalf."

"I forgot who I was talking so," said Venat, smiling. "Okay then. And what if the star were to fall? Something that were to wipe away all life as we know it?"

"Well, if the end comes to me and proves as inevitable as you say, then I hope to die as I have lived. On my feet. Preferably with dirt under my fingernails from work and determination. Make sure something survived past the moment. To help whoever came after to avoid such a calamitous fate. Failing that I will settle for having blood in my teeth. The kind that comes from injury or violence or whatever terrible thing has come to pass."

"Oh, my beloved friend. I understand you, truly I do, but I think you still owe Hythlodaeus a word for whatever the opposite of poetry should be called."

"Do I?" she asked absently. "She stuck a finger in the air and made a circle with her fingertip. "I do not recall actually agreeing to any such thing. And if anyone wanted a poet, they could bother my sister instead. She's the one who's good with words and clever turns of phrase and metaphors. I'm the one you want for details and clarity."

"It must be as you say," said Venat.