Honorable battle sustains a Sacred Band.

You must become like yourself.

If it was true today, it might be untrue tomorrow.

Each soul has its appointed doom. How is it you dare to raise a mortal boy so high - high enough to flout the gods? Bring godhead where a man may reach out and take it? growls Enlil, and lightning splits a clear blue sky.

You get what you expect. Expect to heal. Expect victory.

Now the Fates are here on the beach, three shadows blacker than black, walking through the dunes and looking for their own. Just shadows, lamb-white hands beneath black robes spun of tears, glide among the celebrants on this night wherein the spirits of Thebes have found a home, if serendipitously.

Valor was in Nikodemos, unquestionable, and commitment like trees to stand or night to fall.