On this matter, master Asgeirr seems to be drawn to a pause, flickering in and out of existence to suggest either his deep philosophical consternation or a decreasing appreciation for the farmhouse cat that takes this precise moment to walk right through his specter. Shameful creature! And shameless! And fattened! Has Shoushou not noticed, of late? She hardly even chases the rodents, she is so well provided. He is not a man of cruelty, but he thinks, a cat should be kept lean. Else, no good will come to her, she will lose her bite, her wit about her.

Now, the afterlife. On this, he has several views, some sustained by academics, many more by poets. "We must not dismiss romantics, for theirs are the eyes that glimpse the soul."

It is true, enough has been written, and Asgeirr himself has invested the better part of ten years in study. The first belief he thinks wise is this: that there is no afterlife. "All matter is snow and clay, and from it we are born, and to it we return. There is no after and man is arrogant and desperate to think past the measure of his days."

The second belief is that the soul and its flesh are divided, though further analysis diverges — if one passes, does the other? Can the connection be severed? Certainly, some believe so, and they argue that man must divorce himself from fleshly pleasures as he ages, so he might hasten this divide. And that the spirit goes into a second, greater, different realm, a new state of being — though, even then, does it retain awareness? How much of its previous memory remains tied to the flesh?