[There is no small part of him that wished to say that he should in no way serve as an inspiration to anyone. Particularly one with a hope of making a future for their homeland. Jis spirit had been all but broken centuries before this one was even born. Yes, he had continued to put everything he had into a cause he knew would ultimately be in vain, but it was not hope that drove him, or some sort of inner strength. It was simply what he has always done, it was his final duty to Mythal, it was his purpose. To admire him for that would be admiring a fish for swimming.

But it was not his place to steal the final shred of hope this one seemed to be clinging to, even if the source he drew it from was not the fount of strength that he believed. With luck the human's short lifespan would take him before that final shred of hope fell through. Abelas' gaze did lose some of its harsh edge at least, whether it was because of sentimentality or scrunching up his face in irritation was just worsening his headache was anyone's guess.]

Mythal perished long before your time, she cannot want for anything. [Of course he had heard the rumor that Mythal lived in some form, and it was not an impossible tale to believe...
were the source anyone but that shady witch.] My fate is hardly up to me. Human disease was the one thing that made humans a threat to us. Death was all but certain for those that contracted such ailments. I do not see how I shall be any different.