Page 3119

Vino shook his head. "I've lived my life the way I wanted. And I'll die the way I want, too. Though my fearful heart might waver, my mind does not. I refuse to act impulsively now."

Linus sighed and stood up in order to step away from the desk. "You're just being prideful and stubborn. Not courageous."

"Maybe. But I've never thought pride was such a terrible thing."

Agh.

He needed to try a different approach. An appeal to Vino's sense of responsibility, perhaps. "Ridgemark needs you, Vino. Now more than ever. This war... it threatens everything you've built. Everything you love."

Vino gave a noticeable pause. "I'll admit, the timing could be better. I would've liked to go when things were more peaceful..."

Linus perked up a little, seeing an opening. "Then we can do that. You could become a servant just until the war is over. Or for however long you deem fit. Who knows? You might be surprised how much you like it."

Vino just looked at him, expressionless.

"The important thing is that you would be able to go out on your own terms. Whenever you want."

Vino's gaze drifted to the side, somewhat.

Was that... a tinge of uncertainty that Linus saw? Maybe Vino could be convinced, after all.

Vino closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath. "Wouldn't that just be a delusion? This war may be the largest in a century, but it won't be the last. There will always been another excuse to prolong my departure."

Well, yeah. That was kind of what Linus was hoping for here. He decided to keep that thought to himself, though. "But it wouldn't be a fixed decision, Vino. You could change your mind at any time. Just give it a chance. Please."

Page 3118

"You don't seem surprised," Vino observed.

Linus didn't know what the proper response here was. Was there one? Over a century of life experience, and he was still lost for words. He'd never been all that good with them in the first place. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed working under someone like Vino.

"I guess you figured it out awhile ago, eh? Always were sharper than you liked to let on."

Linus still couldn't look at him. He wanted to tell Vino not to be stubborn, to become a servant. But he already knew Vino's feelings on the matter. The subject had come up many times before over the course of casual conversation.

This was anything but casual, though. Maybe he should try broaching it again. Couldn't hurt to try, right? What was there to lose?

Linus finally looked up at him. "...I'm sure I could find a reaper for you, Vino."

"I'm sure you could, old friend."

That tone didn't sound like one of agreement. "Is there time enough for it?"

"Probably."

"...But you won't do it."

"Come on, Linus. How many times have we talked about this?"

Something about Vino's tone annoyed him. "As far as I'm concerned," said Linus, "those were all warm up conversations for the one we're having right now. This is your life we're talking about, Vino."

"Yes. My life. Not yours. Not some reaper's. Mine."

"Is that really why you're being so stubborn? Because you don't like the idea of putting your life in someone else's hands?"

"Not at all. My life has been in your hands more times than I can even remember."

"Then what is it, exactly? Why not give it a shot?"

"Linus, please. You think I want to be immortal in this body? I didn't want it when I was still young and... relatively virile, let's say. Why would I want it now that I'm an infirm old man?"

"Because you're about to die."

Page 3117

Rather than feigning confusion or disbelief, Linus' expression settled, and he sat down in front of the man's desk. He let the silence linger for a while longer, finding it almost impossible to look him in the eye. Linus didn't want to inquire further. But at this point, he had no choice. "...Talk to me, Vino. What's been going on with you, lately?"

Vino took his time answering. Perhaps he didn't want to have this conversation, either. "I'm dying, Linus."

The words washed over him like a sudden haze. His worst fear, realized in an instant. It wasn't painful. Not yet, at least. It was too sudden. Quick and precise like a knife.

It would hit him eventually, though. Linus had been through this type of thing many times before. His entire family was dead, after all, most from old age.

The impulsive part of him wanted to deny what he'd heard. Or rebel against it, at least. A man of Vino Vance's resources? They could almost certainly secure a reaper for him after he passed. And if not, Linus had plenty of contacts, as did his reaper, Dijara.

But it wasn't that simple, of course.

Linus had known Vino for ages, since long before he'd chosen to come work for him. Despite the professionalism that Linus tried to show in front of others, the truth of the matter was that Vino was his oldest and dearest friend.

When they first met, Linus was little better than a greenhorn in the Vanguard, and Vino was just a boy living in abject squalor here in Vantalay. Those horrific conditions had been a contributing factor to Vino's physical frailty throughout his life.

But he'd lived a long time, despite all that. Eighty-five years and counting.

Linus didn't yet have the heart to ask how much longer he had.