Razka stared at him as the imp spoke. He was parchment and ink and magic leaking out as it attacked itself and brought pain to a fine dragon who deserved none of it. He was curiosity and intelligence and joy confined in a space that could barely contain it all. Razka felt the warmth of fondness as Ed babbled on, turning away to find his most recently acquired trinket so that he could share its history with him.

It was a small thing. A simple bracelet marred by scratches and two holes. Razka knew it wasn't in any way historically relevant and thus was unimportant to his mission. He had an entire database to confirm this, but still he listened as Ed told him who it had come from and how it had come to be the way it was. For Ed, who as an imp knew that in his death his body would be destroyed as completely as possible to leave nothing behind, all history was important no matter how small in the grand scheme of things. Everything was worth remembering and preserving. It may not be relevant to them or the future, but even a small trinket told the story that someone once existed. The body may be lost but the proof of living was there in a beaten bracelet held gently in reverent claws.

The feelings of fondness turned to sadness as his thoughts, as they inevitably did when he was around Ed for long enough, went to his original world. He had never met his world's Ed. Had not had the chance to before his alternate self appeared and destroyed everything. It was obvious that beneath all the obsession with Sorneith's history and the stories of every item that once held an owner that all Ed truly wanted was to be remembered. Knowing this now, it set his teeth on edge that his Ed had been forever condemned to being completely forgotten and unknown as their world was burned out of cosmic existence.

This Ed made a sharp and delighted noise as he remembered another trinket to share, startling Razka back into the present. He watched as this Ed pulled out a torn up plush toy, careful not to pull at the loose threads, and started to babble again. His voice was soothing. An auditory shelter in the storm of pain and loss that was Razka's life.

This was not his Ed. Razka could never forget that. His Ed was dead and he would never know him. But at least he could know this one. He would remember this one. Even if his alternate self succeeded and destroyed this world into nothing. Even if Razka himself failed and lay dying, finally forced into the fate the rest of his and countless other worlds had suffered. He would make sure his last thoughts...

Ed looked up for a second to smile gently at Razka, happy his favorite audience was still here with him, before continuing the story of the toy.

Yes, he would remember this one.