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I love the ideas of the jack-o-lanterns mirroring the rage and brightness of Aegnor's face. Having the lanterns be the inspiration for their discussion of the history of men is inspired, and such a rich metaphor too -- the gourds, once filled with life, are yet severed from the vine and rot even though light fills them.

I wonder if Aegnor went to fight, looked up one day and realized it had been a good 30 years, but not really much in the span of his life. "Oops," he said, and then kept fighting.

Lovely fic.