"I see," said Emperor Euphrates, when he had read this. "Tell me, then, shall we see this Invisible God, when we die?"
Si'Wren thought at length, and finally, without writing anything more, turned her tablet to him and indicated, using her ivory writing stick as a pointer, her earlier line wherein she had written, 'It is possible'.
Emperor Euphrates regarded the line for a long moment, and finally, he said quietly, "So…"
He nodded thoughtfully to himself, and remained silent.
After a short time, during which interval he said nothing more, he retired to his tent for the night, while an honor guard of four spearmen stood outside of it's four corners in silent, constant vigilance.
Si'Wren was left sitting before the fire, staring down at her assortment of clay tablets as she thought intently about the true nature of the Invisible God.
For, besides the parable of a reflection in water, she did not truly know. There was so little to go on, certainly nothing written, whereas others had such magnificent idols of wood, ivory, noble metals, and fine gemstones crafted by the gifted hands of talented men. They also had their ceremonies, their priests, their temple servants. It was so easy for them to give an answer to any difficult question, and to reassure one-another that they were so right.
But as for Si'Wren and her Invisible God, she could only feel a deep, chiasmic remorse that there was no one to ask, and she knew of no other living true believer in the whole wide world now, besides herself, and the Patriarch Noah, whom she knew not.
* * *
That night the clouds gathered thick and dark, and the very air itself seemed charged, and deathly still. It made the men grumble uneasily, fearing what monsters or insanities their imaginations might conjure.