So Savos, if you had to change your age physically and stay that age for the rest of your life, what age would you choose and why?
When the visitor arrives, Savos is sitting in his favourite chair, an open book in his lap. His head is thrown back at a rather uncomfortable looking angle but, if the snoring is anything to go by, he does not seem to care.
It is when the visitor taps him on the shoulder that he jolts up and looks around, confused.
"Oh...oh...Good, er, is it afternoon? I'm sorry, I must have dozed off. The older I get, the more I find myself needing rest."
The visitor then asks their question.
"Hmm," Savos hums, stroking his beard as a deep frown spread across his forehead.
"If I could physically change my age, I'd probably make myself a good ninety—maybe even a hundred—years younger. At that age, I was a full-fledged adult and old enough that my colleagues would not call me green behind the ears. Also I... I think I liked myself the best back then. My hair was longer and fuller and those," he throws his hood back an points at the spots where his hairline has receded slightly, "those weren't as prominent. My beard, in contrast, was much shorter; I've heard people refer to the exact style as 'royale' but I can neither confirm or deny that. It's a beard, as far as I'm concerned, and I dare say it lended me a certain scholarly charme—still does today."













