( He is for drawing, once the beautiful enters, and he keeps her unashamedly in wait. It comes slowly to him this time, the lighthouse, his hand still trembling from the disuse of — months, they tell him. Months of sleep, whole. )

I am Zenobius of Panagos. I... I believe I have now lived over... sixty summers. Although I would not be able to tell you how many. Give me... ( Frustration eats at him, clearly. ) Give me another day. I'll remember. I'll remember you, too. I'll remember everything. I'm... I'm not an idiot.