| Stone (Philammon) |
[22 Mar 2008|05:09pm] |
He'd promised his brother that he would rest after the incident in Paris, and rest he had. Delicate work, putting his shoulder to right. Panacea had done it with little difficulty, lecturing him all the while about the dangers of involving yourself with the politics of the land. For the most part it had gone in one ear, and out of the other. Healing wasn't politics, and neither was doing his job. You could only do so much, though, wasn't that right? Well, if anyone else had need of his talents they would find him. For the moment Asklepios was only glad to have heard of the bargain between Zeus and Erebos. Struck in his temple, with his attendants about, the bargain couldn't possibly fail to be overheard. By someone. Well, it could, but in this case it had not. After giving them strict instructions not to speak of it with anyone, Asklepios had finally slept a restful sleep. There was still work to be done, but it was no longer his work, and at the end of the tunnel - peace.
That seemed like a long, long tunnel.
( Too long. )
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