"I was planning to come here and do the research and then go home and work with mother." Anvar needs no encouragement to get started. "I like embroidery, and she is always turning down requests because she doesn't have time. But now I feel like..." He fumbles for words, "like I don't want to stop yet. But I found what I was looking for. So what do I do now?" Inric hasn't thought about his nephew's future, but the answer is there, staring him in the face almost as boldly as the boy himself. Is this the difference a few years makes? "There were seventeen other people in your father's fyel," he says. "You know where they are buried. Perhaps their families would appreciate the knowledge." "Oh..." Anvar stares as though the thought had never occurred to him. "And they are not the only ones missing," Inric continues. "Oh..." "You will have to look into the other fyels, but you know what to do now."