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by which they lived were more important than their own survival.

Some said that the fabulists could have fought the forces of chaos yet did not. They said the fabulists might still hope to revive their alliance with the ancient enemy after the war's end. Yet Kosh believed that the fabulists embodied the greatest victory of Vorlon philosophy.

Though much of their history had been consumed with anarchy, they had gradually imposed order upon themselves, and they had created fleeting moments of great beauty. Ultimately, these instruments of the enemy had chosen extinction over chaos. They understood, better than any Vorlon, the truth at the core of all Vorlon teachings: that some must be sacrificed so that all could be saved. The galaxy was diminished by their passing.

Kosh knew what the others would say. The fabulists had allied themselves with darkness long ago, and this was the price they must pay. The lot of the younger races was order, obedience, sacrifice. Only that way could they develop properly, fulfill their endless potential.

Yet Kosh's unease over this new war was increasing. Each war brought sweeping changes, species dying, species rising to new power. The passing of the fabulists was but the first. One age ended, another began. Whether anything was ultimately gained had become unclear to him.

It was becoming difficult to stand apart from the younger races, to manipulate, to guide, and then to watch as the enemy undermined the hard-earned progress they had made. It was becoming difficult to watch the younger races suffer. If only the Vorlons could come down from on high and stand beside them, fight with them. Perhaps it was not just the younger races who must sacrifice, but the Vorlons as well.

They would say that he allowed sentimentality to weaken
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