[For all that Eridanus knows Lucius to be, and for what he seems to say, he finds it hard to believe that this Eidolon was ever in a position of power in the first place. Still, he draws his adoring touch over the firm shoulder before him, until the bite of his opal claws trails red welts down over the curve of his broad chest.]

It sounds as if there is a crescendo you are leaving out, my beloved.

[Eridanus chuckles, the sound a soft and airy interlude to the fluttering gust that had claimed the space between them. His touch follows the same path it had carved before—reverently tracing up Lucius' arm, then shoulder, then down across his chest.]

Did you see to this Eidolon's descent yourself? Or was he merely the dirt beneath your boot, too miniscule to warrant your active part in his demise?