"Maybe you should start," she tosses out, "For the sake of future historians, and all the ridiculous theories they'll cook up to explain how one man could live so long. I'm putting my hypothetical money on the 'Adrian Tepes was a title, not a person' school of thought."

True, though, that his perspective is that of a single person, and one bound to be uniquely alien at that. Setting aside the immortality and the...parentage, he's also accustomed to a certain level of wealth and standing. But then Sypha supposes that's true of most surviving accounts of the ancient world. Little people haven't the time, energy, or anyone to look after their posthumous estates.

None of which helps her address the enormous gap in her understanding of her own people's history, or access that ancient knowledge right now. Sypha flings herself into the open end of the sofa, arms over her head in a posture of abject dismay and frustration. "It'll be weeks before I can get word back from any of the nearby caravans, with this weather," she bemoans, "And that's assuming any of the elders take my request seriously, or feel I can be trusted with what's probably considered apocrypha." She scrubs her hands over her face and fixes Adrian with a wry look. "I did mention they're not so pleased with the whole 'settle in a city semi permanently' decision, yes?"