Zelgadis walked steadily, her footfalls echoing strangely in the empty hallway. How long will it be before my friends realize I'm gone, and come searching for me? she wondered aimlessly. She didn't even care, she realized. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing could get to her. Nothing.
There was only one image stuck in her weary mind, one reason why she had struck out on her own instead of following the others blindly. After several minutes of walking, she stood once again in front of the massive doors that blocked passage to the castle's Great Hall.
They glinted, even in the steady glow of her minor Lighting spell. Dozens, no, hundreds of inlaid jewels seemed to shine as their facets caught the soft light. These doors had been the only things to produce even a spark of recognition in Zelgadis's mind. She stood for a few seconds, her eyes travelling over the intricate patterns of precious stones and the incongruous burn marks that framed both doors, before stepping forward and pushing them open.
It took a hefty shove to swing them open; likely, they hadn't been moved at all for fifteen long years. They creaked as they opened a way into the Hall, and Zelgadis started. That sound was familiar.
This unexpected familiarity was unsettling. She stood in place, frozen, as the opening doors creaked to an uncertain halt, perhaps hoping that the memory now hovering near the forefront of her thoughts would reveal itself. But as soon as she glanced through the now open doors and got a good look at the Hall itself, the partial memory fled, banished by the shocking vision of devastation as far as her eyes could see.
Zelgadis stepped into the Hall before caution could get a hold on her, drawn by the utter ruin of what had once been beautiful. Everything in sight was charred, burned, ripped up and torn to shreds. What's more, something faint and lingering pervaded the room - perhaps it was just an odour, perhaps not - that reminded her of nothing so much as putrefaction. Whatever it was, it bothered her, despite its faintness.
Ignoring the suggestion of rot in the air, she took in the former glory of the castle's Great Hall. Shredded rags tacked to crumbling walls had once been fine tapestries; their embroidered details were now forever lost, charred by flame or torn apart by some ungodly fury. The vibrantly coloured paint on the walls had peeled away, showing patches of bare stone and splintered wood underneath thin curls of colour. A half-melted chandelier still hung precariously from the ceiling, seeming to drip its last few beads of cut crystal to the long-neglected floor. Everywhere, gemstones lay scattered; most had been cracked, or pulverized to dust. The west wall even let smears of sunlight shine through dozens of alarming cracks, some more than large enough for a person to climb through.
This is the only room in the entire castle that shows any sign of destruction, thought Zelgadis. She wondered why. Surely a disaster confined to one room couldn't have destroyed the entire country...?
Her eye was caught suddenly by a golden gleam. On one wall, a row of mirrorlike panels of beaten gold had been set just above ground level. Once, they might have been perfectly placed to reflect a small child's image; she walked over and crouched down to get a better view of them, seeing from the point of view of that hypothetical child. Now, the golden panels were half melted by some long-forgotten blast of heat, and streaked with ash. She wiped a smear of ash away with her sleeve, and looked at her reflection in the small gleaming streak thereby revealed.
Was it just her imagination, or did a tiny girl gaze back at her?
Disturbed, she rose and turned her back on the row of golden mirrors. The floor stretched out for a great distance; once it had been tiled, but the thin squares of marble had been gouged up here and there, revealing the darker stone underlaying them. Shattered gems crunched underfoot as Zelgadis walked among the scattered tiles. Once, people could have danced here....
A fleeting memory swept suddenly past, gone almost the moment it appeared; of laughter, of skirts rustling and bells jingling, of a riot of colour twirling on the ballroom floor... of something by her feet that was small and furry, and had a tail which wagged far too vigorously.... Blinking in confusion, she abruptly turned away from the dance floor and its colourful memories, and ended up facing a raised area, a dais, covered with shards of gilded wood that once might have been a throne.... The royal family sat there, Zelgadis suddenly knew, and was seized by a vision of a tall, bearded man with a wide, easy smile, and a calm, pleasant woman with bright intelligent eyes; both were wearing silvery circlets, and both were holding the hands of a little girl... holding the hands of....
"Princess Amethyst."
The voice came out of nowhere. Zelgadis recognized it in an instant. She knew that voice almost better than she knew her own; she had been hearing it for endless months in her nightmares.
She spun around to meet its loathsome owner face to face. At the sight of those once-blind eyes, of the expressive mouth that could all too easily be twisted into a cruel smile, of the reddish hair in a style so strongly reminiscent of her own.... Rage bubbled up from some forgotten wellspring deep within her. No longer did she drift emotionlessly; she was borne forward by a rising tide of anger sparked by this face, whose owner she despised with all the force at her disposal.
"Rezo!" she hissed venomously. She had never forgotten what the Red Priest had done to her over the years. It was easy, so easy, to transfer all the blame for everything that had ever befallen her to this fiendish priest. So easy to let the anger grow, let it build, until....
Viciously, she snapped out a Ra Tilt, barely noticing the odd buzzing feeling that still underlaid her magic. Rezo frantically dodged the immensely powerful spell, which spent itself futilely against the room's tortured walls. "Please!" he cried. "Princess, just listen to me!"
Zelgadis started at the utterly unexpected note of pleading in his voice. Her shock allowed the overwhelming fury to die down, allowing her to notice something she'd been too angry to even see. Rezo's face was before her, true; but nothing else. He was nothing more than a disembodied head floating in midair, shadowy and ghostlike; vague details of the walls behind him could be seen. What's more, both of Rezo's eyes were open; both of his eyes were normal. And there was nothing of mockery or despite in his expression; just sorrow, earnestness, a hint of pleading....
"I don't understand," she said, trembling, though even she couldn't tell whether it was from cold, fear, or rage.
"Then let me explain, Princess," said Rezo's shade gravely. "You need to know the truth. After everything you've suffered, you deserve to know the truth."
All Zelgadis could bring herself to say was, "Go on."
Rezo's ghostly eyes grew distant and bright. "Princess Amethyst.... You were the first and only child of Queen Pirie of Therilon, who was my beloved granddaughter...."
A child's laughter rang out above the music, above the amiable chatter and sounds of joy that were filling the Great Hall this beautiful night. Rezo couldn't help but grin; King Jordan sure knew how to throw a party. He'd pulled out all the stops for this, His Royal Highness's birthday bash; the feasting had continued merrily for hours, and the music and dancing seemed likely to continue unabated until dawn. In the midst of all the excitement, the Red Priest was enjoying himself immensely.
Despite his blindness, Rezo could feel the happy gaze of Simone, the Duchess of Sandy Marches, resting on him. He returned her smile with one of his own. Their wedding had taken place just weeks ago, and they were still caught up in the euphoria that the recently married know so well.
After Rezo's beloved first wife, Esmeralda, had died (but who could have stopped her from indulging her passion for mountain climbing?), he had been alone for years before finding Simone. It seemed as though fate had drawn him and the widowed Duchess together. Rezo, as grandfather of Therilon's Queen, and great-grandfather of the tiny Princess, had spent much time at the court of this rather odd yet delightful kingdom; despite the sad memories of his dear Esme at every step, he had always allowed himself to be drawn back here, taking time off from his eternal quest to cure his blindness. And the vivacious Duchess Simone, never away from court for very long, had somehow managed to insinuate herself into his thoughts and into his heart. In between moments of pestering her son the King, that is....
Even now, the King was parading around with his little daughter seated securely on his shoulders, giving her an excellent view of the party. She laughed again, obviously delighted at the glittering sight of Therilon's best and brightest swirling their way around the dance floor. Her mother, Queen Pirie, would be smiling indulgently right about now, Rezo knew. She always held that Jordan spoiled their daughter far too much.
Finally, the King set his daughter down; she raced off across the royal dais to lovingly torment Earl Greywers' poor little lapdog. While settling back into his gaudy throne, King Jordan noticed the loving gazes between his mother and the world-reknowned Red Priest, and unexpectedly guffawed. "Hey, Rezo; I just realized something! Now that you and Mum are married, you're not only our little Amethyst's great-grandfather, but her grandfather too!"
"Ah... how interesting ...." was Rezo's reply.
Simone sent an amused glance in her husband's direction. "Both her grandfather and her great-grandfather.... Let's not broadcast that to the peasants, shall we? Who knows what they'd think?"
Jordan chuckled. "Heh... Great-grandfather by blood, and grandfather by marriage... sounds like something out of a storybook, doesn't it?" Rezo had to agree - what else could one do? - but wandered off precipitously before the irreverent monarch could belabour the obvious any further. He liked the young King well enough, but his sense of humour could sometimes be unbearably tedious. And Simone would keep egging him on....
He spent a few more minutes wandering about the party, a cup of that famous punch in hand, before he noticed it: something felt subtly wrong, like a headache just starting; or was it more like a foul odour? Whatever it was, no one else seemed to notice it.
I'm probably just getting tired... it is nearing midnight. Er, he thought, noticing a clock face that had helpfully appeared on the wall, make that well past midnight. Not that it matters, to this bunch.... The amassed nobility of Therilon, everyone who was even remotely related to the Royal Family (as well as quite a few who were not), all seemed ready to party on till sunrise, if not longer. "'S long as the booze keeps flowin'," Marquess Ferdinand had said gleefully. And for those already sufficiently sozzled, there were enough magical trickery, illusions, and parlour games to capture their interest whenever the kaleidoscopic swirling of the dance floor seemed too much of a challenge. Rezo even passed a small group of nobles, all transfixed by the storytelling expertise of the absolutely sloshed Earl of Gobbo, who by this point was glowing purple whenever he hiccupped....
The Red Priest usually loved the vibrancy and noisy spirit of Therilonian parties, but for some reason he couldn't enjoy himself any more tonight. Something nagged at him, wearied him.... With an apologetic nod to Simone, he indicated he'd be off for a rest, with the intention of coming back in an hour or so (when the party REALLY got swinging). Or maybe not. It was rather late, after all; he might just catch up on his sleep. He was getting on in years, though he still appeared rather young - the effect of all the time he'd spent in Therilon, he assumed, as well as his near-constant use of magic, the "Power That Preserves".
As he made his way towards the massive, jewel-inlaid doors (the tackiest things he'd ever seen, in his ever-so-humble opinion), Queen Pirie approached him, carrying her daughter in her arms. The little Princess was drowsing off, naturally enough after such a long day. "Grandfather, before you go, could you take Amethyst up to bed? Even Jordan agrees he's shown her off enough... if it were up to me, she'd have been asleep hours ago, but you know how he is." She smiled apologetically. "I would do it myself, but Jordan's suddenly decided that now is the perfect time for yet another round of Royal Toasts...."
"I'd be glad to help!" Rezo took his great-granddaughter into his arms, marvelling yet again at how tiny a being she was. Tired, eh? That makes two of us, then. With one last farewell to Jordan's party, he set off.
Before he could reach the doors leading out of the Great Hall, however....
The previously mild sense of wrongness was as nothing compared to the choking horror that suddenly filled the air. And the previous sounds of laughter and merriment were replaced by screams.
Unyielding tendrils of - something - tried to grab Rezo; tried to destroy, shock, wrench his mind apart. Some terrible awareness hovered, a massive consciousness that was behind each blow. He was cornered in his own mind; there was no way out, no escape. He held the small child close; she, woken fully by the trauma, and petrified, made no noise as he was dragged inexorably closer to utter doom.
Then, a brilliant flash of energy tore through the dark threads of consciousness. It had the unmistakeable flavour of True Power, legacy of Therilonian royal blood; a power unmatched by any Rezo had ever known. But the dark creature, though squarely hit by the True Power's immense force, was rallying, was readying for a second attack....
Shock after shock tore through the Great Hall as the assembled throng of nobles began to strike back at their mysterious attacker. True Power clashed and swirled, but still failed to destroy the enemy. The unspeakable thing was even fighting back, taking demonic delight in foiling the incredible power being brought to bear against it.
Rezo knew he was hopelessly outmatched, caught up as he was in the eddies of power at the very edge of the conflict. The only thing he could focus on was the Princess; he held her tightly, trying to shield her, barely conscious of the hideous massacre surrounding both of them.
Suddenly, a voice penetrated the constricting darkness. King Jordan's voice. "Rezo! Take her to safety!"
There could be no mistaking Jordan's intention. There could be no mistaking the desperation in his voice. And when another voice added its plea, there could be no turning back.... "Please, Rezo! Save yourself!"
"Simone...," he murmured, realizing in that awful instant what he had to do... and what it would cost him. Finding strength somewhere deep within himself, he fought his way out beyond the Great Hall's jeweled doors, clutching Amethyst to his chest. The doors slammed shut behind him, sealing the evil presence away; his thoughts became clearer as the horror lost its grip on his mind.
Flight was the only option now. Rezo tore through the halls, his feet barely touching the ground. He passed reams of frightened servants, and even the occasional courtier. By now, even they could tell that something was terribly wrong. The castle itself was trembling with the forces being brought to bear within its walls. Barely subdued panic choked the halls; escape was on everyone's minds.
The moment he was free of the castle's labyrinthine passageways, the moment he passed through the massive doorways leading outside, Rezo encased himself and the Princess in a Ray Wing. His magic swept both of them high, far out of the reach of attack.
As he flew them away from Therilon's Castle, a huge conflagration shattered the air. A trememdous explosion destroyed the Great Hall; a thousand colours of magic swept past, tossing the Ray Wing bubble to and fro, as True Power expended itself in one final, suicidal blast.
And all was quiet.
Little Amethyst, tired and mortally afraid, began to wail. Her voice sounded thin and small in the sudden silence. Rezo held his great-granddaughter gently, trying to give her what comfort he could. As they flew farther and farther away from the ruined castle, tears began to trickle slowly from his own blind eyes. Simone....
In the days that followed, Rezo began to feel tiny groping tendrils of dark power reaching out for him and for the Princess. The Royal Family's sacrifice had been in vain. The monster lived. He could feel it slowly beginning to poison the magical atmosphere of the country; he could feel it slowly striving to find Amethyst and finish the job it had begun at her father's last Grand Ball. Sick with dread, Rezo realized that there was nothing he could do except take her far away to safety.
As they fled past the edge of Therilon's magical field - borders wouldn't contain the monster for long - Rezo was transfixed by a terrifying cry. Fighting down panic, he forced himself to keep the concentration needed to maintain his Ray Wing, and left the border far behind. But he was followed out of the country by something huge and hideous. As it left the magical field that infused the country, it lost altitude, until finally its ragged wings couldn't support it any longer. It crashed and finally died, starved of magic. With it died the irrational fear that had seized Rezo upon hearing its cry. He allowed himself a minute or two to examine its body. A dragon, and yet not a dragon - one of the nightmare creatures which had once been sealed away for the good of the country. But now that those who had maintained the seal were gone.... The country of Therilon was doubly ruined.
With passage into other, faraway lands came the illusion of safety, but Rezo knew it wouldn't last for long. The creature, whatever it was, would search for Amethyst; it would hunt her out, wherever she was. Rezo couldn't keep her under his protection, either. The monster knew him; it would be seeking him out as well, and it outmatched him greatly. The farther she was from him, the safer she'd be. One day, she would develop her own True Power; one day, she'd be able to defend herself from attack. But until then, the only way to keep her safe would be to hide her.
The monster would be searching for a Princess of Therilon; it would be looking for a little girl with magic coursing through her veins. For a while, Rezo racked his brains; how could he throw the dark power off track...? Suddenly, he got an idea. Though it horrified him at first, soon he realized that it would be the perfect disguise. And he really didn't have the time to think of anything better. Oh, forgive me, my dear....
He set down his great-granddaughter; she watched him wide-eyed, thumb in mouth. "Don't be afraid, Amethyst," he said reassuringly; or tried to, at any rate. With that, he surrounded her tiny form with flowing magic. Soon, her eyes closed in magical slumber, and he began to work.
It took a long time to complete the job to Rezo's satisfaction, but when it was over, there was no longer a Princess lying curled up in front of him. Instead, there was a small boy. He had taken such care with the forming of this magical body that it hardly bore any traces of his own magical scent; tied as it was to Amethyst's own body, it would age naturally, and with luck, wouldn't even be recognized as a magical construct.
What's more, Rezo had locked away all trace of Amethyst's magical heritage. She... he would be unable to use magic, just as if he had been born without the slightest trace of ability. Just as if he was no longer the heir to the most magical kingdom on the face of the planet.
"Wake up," Rezo said gently, and took the still-sleepy boy into his arms once more. "We're going to find you a family now." He set off towards a small village in the local countryside, far from most of the larger cities. On the outskirts of the village lived a woodcutter and his small family. Rezo remembered them from the last time he'd passed this way; he'd cured several of the village children of blindness at that time, and had been impressed with the family's generosity and kindness.
His arrival came as a surprise to the woodcutter and his wife. Their daughter, several years older than Amethyst, clung to her mother's skirts out of shyness. Rezo did his best to put them at ease, explaining that this young boy's family had died tragically, and that he needed the help of a family he could trust to take care of the child.
"We'd be honoured to do you a favour, Red Priest Rezo!" said the woodcutter, obviously remembering how much Rezo had done for his village.
"Of course we'll take care of this poor orphaned boy," added his wife warmly.
The daughter, however, had been getting more and more alarmed throughout the conversation. She tugged at her mother's skirts and said crossly, "Mama, I don't want a brother!"
"Hush, dear; Rezo is a very important man, and he's asking us to do a very special favour, so...."
"But, Mama, I don't want a little brother!"
The woodcutter took his daughter by the hand. "Now, now, Jessi; let's not make a fuss." She still seemed unconvinced, but kept quiet while her mother took Amethyst from Rezo's hands.
"Oh, honey, isn't he sweet?" The kindly woman gazed into the little boy's eyes; he gazed back, thumb still firmly planted in mouth, as she held him gently. "I can't help noticing, Red Priest Rezo, but... you and he look a little bit alike! Is there any relation...?"
"You've got me there!" said Rezo. "He's my great-grandson." Suddenly remembering King Jordan and his rather interesting observations, he sadly mumbled, "And grandson, too...."
The woodcutter and his wife weren't listening, however, which was all to the good. "What a tragedy!" murmured the woodcutter. "So you're the only family this boy's got...?"
Unfortunately, the daughter had been listening, and she stared at Rezo in incredulity while he answered her father's question. "I am, but I'm hardly suited for taking care of a child by myself, you'll agree...."
The woodcutter straightened up, and spoke as if he were swearing the most solemn of vows. "We'll raise the boy as if he were our own son! You'll be proud of him, I'm sure!"
Rezo smiled. "I'm glad to be leaving him in such competent hands." He patted Amethyst on the head one last time, and murmured, "Goodbye," before turning to leave.
"Wait!" said the woodcutter's wife. "His name is...?"
Rezo froze in place. "Um...." He hadn't thought of a suitable name for Amethyst's disguise; he hadn't even remembered that he'd have to do so. Before he could think about what he was saying, however, a name escaped his lips. "Zelgadis... Greywers." He winced, but it was too late to change it now. What possessed me to use that name?
Luckily, the woodcutter and his wife didn't think the name too unusual. "Zelgadis, eh? Welcome to the family!"
Rezo soon walked away, leaving 'Zelgadis' in the care of this small, happy family. As he left, he cast a small spell of amnesia over them all (not noticing that the daughter had already run off into the forest chasing after butterflies). Soon, Amethyst will forget all traces of the life she led before now. This family will be the only one she's ever known, and they'll raise her as if she were their own child, bred and born. It's all for the best, he thought sadly. I'll visit her, of course... but as the Red Priest Rezo, not as a relative. And I won't be able to visit very often, either... not if I want to keep her true identity a secret from the monster....
Now that the Princess was safe, Rezo felt strangely hollow. Therilon, the land in which he had spent so many treasured years, was forever ruined; and his dear Simone was forever gone. So what shall I do now? he wondered. Maybe it's time to resume my quest once again. There must be a cure for my blindness somewhere....
"And when you came running to me a few years later, demanding to know if I was really both your grandfather and great-grandfather, I thought that the spell of amnesia had worn off. I tried to replace it, but hastily. I can only assume that it didn't work all that well," said Rezo apologetically.
Zelgadis stood, head bowed, shaking slightly. "How can I believe any of this?" she said, her voice trembling faintly.
"What else could explain it all, Princess?"
A long, awkward silence ensued. "It still doesn't explain why...." Her voice trailed off before she finished the sentence.
"Why...?" prompted Rezo, curious.
Her head snapped up, and she glared at him. "Why you turned me into a chimaera!" Her voice was filled with loathing. "If I'm truly this Princess Amethyst... if I'm truly your granddaughter... how could you turn me into a freak?"
"Oh... aheh... right," mumbled Rezo. "The chimaera business. Well, you see...."
Why have I come here, anyway? Rezo thought irritably. He wasn't even sure, himself, why he found himself walking through these dusty forest paths on the way to some tiny village in the middle of nowhere.
this is a waste of time, human
I'm going far out of my way, wasting time that could be better spent on research for my cure. What WAS it that brought me here? The answer came soon enough. Oh, yes. My great-granddaughter, the Princess of Therilon. I shall check up on her, and see that everything is going well. When was the last time I visited...? What does it matter? This delay rankled; he was eager to be done with it, so he could get back to his much more important work.
As he swept impatiently past trees and rocks, he suddenly noticed a beastly presence. Some kind of monstrous creature, long-legged and covered in wiry fur, was sniffing its way along the trail.
a pathetic creature
Rezo ignored it. A pathetic monster, not worthy of my attention.
It noticed him, however, sitting up on its massive haunches and snuffling the air as he strode briskly past. "You are Rezo!" it roared, in shocking recognition. "Where is Princess Amethyst?"
The Red Priest replied with a powerful blast of magic, which hardly fazed it. In the end, it took quite a lot of effort to destroy this one 'pathetic creature'. He felt some slight pricklings of fear; this must have been one of the servants of the dark force that destroyed Therilon. It came close to discovering the Princess's whereabouts; even with her disguise, it might only be a matter of time before she's found. Perhaps the disguise wasn't good enough...?
why should I care
And she's too young to have developed her True Power, and I sealed away her magical ability; so she has no way to defend herself against any monsters which might find her... where there's one, more will follow. I thought that hiding her abilities would keep her safe, that it would conceal her; but what if it ends up putting her life in danger?
so let her die
If I just leave her be, they'll find her soon. I can't stand guard over her constantly! And if I remove the seal on her powers, the monsters will be drawn to her like moths to a flame. Her innate powers are huge, and once unlocked, would be impossible to conceal....
...
with that amount of power, she could become a valuable servant
But... I could bring her with me. Rezo laughed; he'd found the solution to this problem! Yes; once her powers are unlocked, she can be of great use to me in my quest! And if I not only unseal her magical powers, but also disguise her even more radically, the monsters will be thrown off the scent....
With an evil grin, he strode off even faster towards the little village. When I find my great-granddaughter, I'm going to make her an offer she'd be a fool to refuse....
"Now that your true form has been returned, though, the monster has found you," said Rezo, sounding slightly worried. "It's been sending its servants to kill you. I'm still not sure why, but its goal seems to be the total destruction of the Royal House of Therilon, and you're all that's left." He captured her gaze with his own. "I'm afraid for you. Whatever possessed you to come back here, to the centre of its powers?"
"I was looking for answers," said Zelgadis bitterly.
"And now you have them. I would feel much better if you left the castle right now, if you left the country as fast as possible. It has much greater control over its servants within the borders of Therilon."
"I've been able to handle them perfectly well!" muttered Zelgadis.
"For this long, maybe. But from now on, the attacks will only get worse. You might even be attacked by the master itself. I'm not sure of the extent of its powers; I can tell that it's much less powerful than it was fifteen years ago... if nothing else, the Royal Family's sacrifice weakened it immensely. But it is far too powerful for you to destroy, of that I have no doubt."
Zelgadis went on the defensive. "Why are you so sure of that? We killed Shabranigdo, didn't we?"
"Lina Inverse and I barely managed to destroy one seventh of Shabranigdo. And I won't be able to help you this time," Rezo said, glancing down wryly at his ghostly form.
Suddenly reminded of the fact that she was speaking to a dead man, Zelgadis lost her defensive attitude. She seemed to deflate, seemed almost to accept the fact that her great-grandfather wasn't quite as evil as she'd always believed him to be. Eyeing his transparent body, she asked, "How did you manage to come back as...?"
Rezo shrugged. "I'm not sure myself. After that day when you and your friends fought so bravely to stop Shabranigdo, I found myself here, as you see me now. I believe my spirit was drawn back here; probably because I spent so many happy years here while I was alive....
"But that's enough; you have to leave here. I'm serious, Princess Amethyst. You aren't safe, as long as...." Rezo choked off his sentence; a look of horror crossed his ghostly features. "What? No! It's coming early! I thought there'd be more time...." He glanced towards the cracked western wall, where streaks of sunlight were still visible. "You have to get out, Amethyst," he cried out. "You have to get away. There's no time. You MUST!" Zelgadis, for some reason even she could barely comprehend, stood her ground. "I can't stay any longer. Please, Amethyst...." Zelgadis said nothing, watching the ghost of Rezo fade away and leave her alone.
But for some reason, she didn't feel alone....