[Bringing up the supposed positives of mortals probably wasn't the best idea. It takes considerable effort for the Ascian to not snap out a reply; he wasn't doing this for them. For those wretched, pitiful mistakes--

They didn't deserve his history. But if they didn't carry it, no one would. And that thought hurt even more.

So he bites it back.]

Yet your own feelings on the matter are quite relevant.

[His tone is neutral enough to be nearly toneless. As detached as Emet-Selch could make it, the thinnest of shields over an unceasing turmoil. Talking himself into this was... an uncomfortable affair.]

There is an inherent bias in the writers of history. Deliberate or not, the historian's own views will filter through, distorting the truth. What assurance do I have that you won't go that one step further- deliberately twisting the past to justify the value of the present?

There will be no one left to contradict you. You could have us be as shallow, decadent, and cruel as you like- the doom we faced one we brought upon ourselves, that was naught but deserved. Oh, you'll take what you can use from us, but what will you do with the rest?

[Not that Emet-Selch truly believed that the Exarch would be so blatantly false; mysterious as he was, he never struck him as that sort of person.

But his people were the one thing that mattered to him; he had to be sure.]