[ The priest exhaled a derisive snort and drank again, this time slower. ]

You mistake me, m'lord Scion. To reconcile despair quickly is... to mourn minimally. To set aside griefs in favor of practicalities.

You will never see your homeland again, or behold what you best beloved. Your dreams and fears all vanished like smoke in a hard wind. It is hard enough just to watch for long enough, the slow comprehension dawning... that all is lost.

[ He made an articulate motion with his free hand, an unfurling of his fingers, and began to stagger to his feet, downing his drink. ]