"Natalia, come closer."

"Yes, Papa?"

"I ... *cough* ... I don't think I am much longer for this world, my precious."

"No, Papa! You will get better! You will be strong again!"

"Oh, trinket. Your unwavering optimism has been a solitary candle flame during this dark time, but we are past hope now. We must face your going on without me."

"But what of Saskia? And little Feyodor?"

"You must take care of your siblings now, my flower. Siberia is a hard place for ones so young as you, but you must till the fields now before the ground freezes. Plant the turnips now or you will starve to death come the spring."

"I will bury the seeds, but I will not bury my father!"

"Natalia, I regret that you've had to become a woman so early in your life. But I cannot remain. Fate has hewn me from the ripe Earth. Soon I will be with your mother in the afterlife."

"Papa ... *sob* ... without you, we are alone in this world. The mare is too old to bear riders and the nearest town is ..."

"Natalia, you are able-bodied. You are headstrong. You have all you need to endure the winter. Tend the children. They may not be of stout mind, but they will grow thick-limbed and can pull the cart when the nag has succumbed to her elderliness. Sell what you can at the market. You'll need ... *cough* ... you'll ... *cough*cough* ..."

"Papa? Papa! No!"

Later, at an eight-bit castle in a far away fantasy land ...

"Arise, husband. The night is upon us, and with it, the hour of we the damned."

"Is this our lot, wife? Shall this be the way we while away eternity?"

"Hush, darling, and cover your eyes. Here comes that plumber dude."

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