"What do you want me to do?"
Bologue agreed to Ewen, as Ewen was worth it. This friendship was invaluable.
Ewen paused, straightened his back, and stood upright; in this, he was as stubborn as Bologue.
"I have already written a complete ending for this story, and now, Poet, this will be the first poem you write.
Please write my ending.
An ending for me, one that is romantic and poetic enough."
Ewen grasped Bologue's hands tightly, smearing blood onto his palms. Bologue felt something indescribable, with remaining strength bestowed upon him, his words would become reality.
"No... Ewen, no..."
"Listen to me, Bologue," Ewen explained patiently, "Someone has to pass the story on, but that person doesn't have to be me."
Ewen said happily, "I have everything here, there's nothing left to chase."
Bologue heard Ewen's whisper.
"The pen is already in your hand, what are you waiting for? Poet."
