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There is a series of promises the ancients make to us. Birth. Life. Death. These three make up the primary triad of life that allow us to continue to cycle. For without birth we would have no hope, without life no purpose, and without death no relief. And so we cycle on and on, prepared and succoured by these three promises. And so the miniature cycles of life continue on apace as well, continuing from birth, to life, to death. And so when we see the terrible fates before us, we repeat the wisdom of the ancients.
Death is a promise still kept.
Ubaldo Jimenez: The youngest scholar raises his hand and asks the first question:
"But if death is promised, why do we fear it?"
The teacher smiles and shrugs:
"The promises we are given are not always able to be seen as they truly are. Or, perhaps we are not tired enough yet. Or perhaps I am wrong."
"So it's a riddle?" the student asks.
"Yes and no."
Kevin Correia: The elder scholar raises her hand.
"But if life is promised, then is not death a betrayal?"
"Ah," the teacher says, "wise question. But when we are truly near death, can we say we still live?"
"This is a semantics issue" the student replies.
"In my experience," the teacher smiles, "when it comes to semantics, it truly is time for the final promise."
And at that, the class is dismissed to the 7:05 CBP start.