'Anaxagoras the foolish' was a name the gods bestowed upon him in mockery of his knowledge. Mockery of what he knew about the gods, about the river of dark sin that flowed in their golden blood which tainted the lands of Amphoreus.

But of course, nobody would believe the words of a fool, as they condemned him to the pits of hell. Afterall, who would believe him against the word of the gods?

So he shut up. Kept the knowledge about the gods to himself and confined himself to his manor. Away from the prayers directed at the unworthy gods. Away from the hatred directed towards his foolish, foolish self.

But he simply couldn't bear to see you, the one person he loved, put your faith in those wretched things as well. His cold fingers twined with yours as he interrupted your prayers, pressing them against his chest instead.

Perhaps he really was a fool. A fool for caring too much.