Finally the man in black stepped back looking weary for a moment before he looked strong again. Chantry on the other hand felt immeasurably better. Elon always did this for him, but this time Chantry knew the effects would only be temporary at best. Some damage just couldn't be repaired, but Chantry was grateful to feel physically better at least for the moment.
The man spoke, "You've been poisoned in small doses for a long time now."
Chantry nodded.
"And you don't know who's doing it yet?"
Again Chantry nodded knowing how bad of an admission that was. He quickly added, "I'm working on it."
The man called Elon sighed, and let a hand rest on Chantry's shoulder, "You don't have very long old friend."
"I know." Chantry admitted.
Elon picked up the book Chantry kept as a memorial of the past. He began to go through it and asked, "Why do you torment yourself so with those who have gone on before Chantry?"
"They should be remembered, even as I cherish the memories of my time with them." Chantry said quietly.
Elon shook his head, "The best part of these people are already at either one of two places. These are no more than pictures of bodies, whose spirits are long gone to their individual destinations."
Chantry nodded knowing the truth of that, admittedly his sorrow was somewhat slanted toward his own personal loss. Curious to know Chantry asked, "Do you keep such books?"
"No, but I do remember." Elon responded softly, as he continued to leaf through the book.
Chantry shook his head, "I pity you Elon. One life of experiences and memories is enough to make me yearn for eternity. I can't imagine what it must be like for you."
Elon said nothing and in some ways that was its own statement. After a moment he spoke, "Yes I remember much. Much that I wish I didn't have to, but then there are people, places and things that I gladly remember."
Elon knelt down on one knee beside Chantry's wheelchair, "You I will remember more highly than many before you." As Elon's words ended he closed the book and Chantry got the poignant message in that action.
"Old friend it is time to put your house in order, while there is yet time and then I need you to close it."
Chantry nodded obediently, even as tears fell down his weathered cheeks. The Agency was like a child to him and he'd given his life for it as a loving father would.
Elon's hand closed over Chantry's arthritic one gently, "I would continue the Agency's charter if Flint wanted it. Even Tyre at that, but neither of them want the job. They want to spend time with their families, can you blame them for that?"