They say that when the flutter of a moth brushes against your window in the stillness of the night, Sylene is near. With her lamp that cuts through the unfathomable gloom, she guides the newly departed. The chains she drags do not bind her to the boat, but to a fate she chose.... Or that chose her. Does she enjoy her labor? Perhaps only a moth that dances with darkness could find solace in being the boatwoman of eternity.