[ Somehow, that voice sends a chill through her colder than the air and the snow. She's hallucinating. She has to be. Or it's a trick, some kind of mind game someone's playing with her. The bitter tang of guilt on her tongue, the tight grip of sadness in her throat, the electric tingling of desperate hope in her limbs, fueling her creation of the golem.
Slowly, heart racing, she turns around. ]
Quentin.
[ And finally, the warmth of soul-deep love spreading through all of her. Even if it's an illusion, she can't help how she feels. Magically disabled, ready to walk out on the quest for the world seed, alone and afraid and largely powerless, she can't help but want this to be real. And even though he could be an enemy cloaked in Quentin's image, she walks to him, fast at first, slow and stopping a few feet away from him, aware that maybe this is how she dies. ]
How did you— how are you here?
[ "You're dead" hangs in the air between them, unspoken but bright and shivering in her gaze. Please be real. Please let this be real, or at least a pleasant dream. She's so tired of nightmares. ]
;;
Slowly, heart racing, she turns around. ]
Quentin.
[ And finally, the warmth of soul-deep love spreading through all of her. Even if it's an illusion, she can't help how she feels. Magically disabled, ready to walk out on the quest for the world seed, alone and afraid and largely powerless, she can't help but want this to be real. And even though he could be an enemy cloaked in Quentin's image, she walks to him, fast at first, slow and stopping a few feet away from him, aware that maybe this is how she dies. ]
How did you— how are you here?
[ "You're dead" hangs in the air between them, unspoken but bright and shivering in her gaze. Please be real. Please let this be real, or at least a pleasant dream. She's so tired of nightmares. ]