nylathriasoulseer

[nylathriasoulseer]

[nylathriasoulseer]

At first Nyla thought she had crossed a line of personal space. But she was soon relieved when the gesture was returned. This world was hard, bitter, cruel it made you feel like you didn’t belong in it at times. It was a lonely, she had been lonely. There was nothing like a hug to feel comforted. “Not all of us can be the ones that are chosen. I’m no one back home, just live by myself minding my own business. So even though it is sad maintaining those archives keeps them alive in memory.” She kept her own loved one’s memory alive by maintaining what she had left of her. She wiped her own face to remove the tears that had made themself present. “I have never been to the library here. Warm tea sounds perfect about now.” Not to mention the private reading nook. There was nothing quite like meeting a kindred soul and a new reading spot all in one day.

Calla was surprised to be embraced, proof enough of that by the hesitation in her frame to respond to the contact. But quickly enough, her arms wove around the elven woman until they were hugging each other. As someone who lost everything in a foreign land where people like both of them got burned simply for existing, any amount of closeness to another was welcome to Calla. "Scholars of Juno are protectors of knowledge, but for all the mapping of the stars and writing of thesis I do, the Tower would never pick someone like me to help the others. When the Students of Prosperina lay them to rest, we'll maintain their records in the Tower archives. That, to me, is always the saddest part." Calla speaks with the hint of a sob in her voice, but she does try to withhold her tears. She felt terrible for creating such an emotional response from the other, but she was happy to learn she'd met someone with genuine empathy. "You should come with me to the library. The Olympian shelves are quite comforting and the Scholars who work there always have warm tea waiting. Plus, only we know where all the secret hideaways for quiet reading are on the first floor. There's no place more suited for rest in all of Lysara."

[nylathriasoulseer]

“Yes of course I’m afraid.” Who wouldn’t be? It was natural to be afraid of what you didn’t understand and even the things you do. “I was afraid to leave Avalon but here I am despite the fact.” Her fear didn’t stop her from doing everything but gave her a healthy sense of self preservation. “We helped each other because it benefited us both. After what I saw I think I’m right to be afraid.” She had seen the transformation seen what Nik truly was. “I think it is your nature that makes you think that. Fear while it can be cowardly can also save your life. It means you never underestimate an enemy.” It wasn’t difficult to understand what Nik embodied it was there every time he spoke. “I’ve learnt many words can be said in a moment and the regretted later. You might not have those intentions now but they can change. I’m sorry your secret came out the way it did, but I hope you find peace in knowing i haven’t told anyone.” She did have people she could tell but there were so many others she’d leave it to one of them to do.

Truthfully none of it amounted to much, the daemon took the words, heard them, and then dismissed them just as casually. Nothing had been said that the daemon hadn't garnered from the last decade of dogma. Nikandros hadn't asked what Nylathria would choose to do if either he or Eivor were suffering; truthfully, given Pride's nature, it was difficult for Nikandros to imagine that specific set of circumstances ever coming to pass.

"I'm aware of what my question entailed." For a very fleeting moment, Nikandros had thought perhaps Nylathria's impression of his kind might have changed - but she was right to be wary. Nikandros had his own agenda, he'd pose no threat to her and that was far from the reason why he'd come here.

"You're afraid." A pathetic emotion, one that the Altus had known a great deal of in his youth but a sensation that Wisdom had not known until it was beaten into Pride. "Even now, after what you saw and what we went through in the wilds." Nikandros should have known, the years passed by, and yet so much remained the same. "Fear is a petty thing, insidious and cowardly. Does it do anything to ease you to know I have no intention of ever harming you?"

[nylathriasoulseer]

When it came to family functions Nyla was distant from the rest. It’s not like she didn’t care for them it was just that she had married into the branch and the elders thought she should have gotten over her wife’s passing by now. Normally she just stood in the corner with her wine, tease the young ones. “Right? You really don’t know your aunties name, you have to ask me. Should I be offended Aurelie?” Nyla never forgot a name or a face, not when she could empower her magic by knowing them. She was only teasing him but still who greyed their auntie like that? Not even a hug? How rude. Eventually Nyla would sell the business, she was only using it so she could see more souls, so maybe if she got lucky enough she would find Lyra’s soul.

starter for @nylathriasoulseer.

where: somewhere in the silverlands

when: current timeline

note: auntie <3

Auri hadn't second glanced at the chance to leave Avalon behind; in hindsight, perhaps he should have taken another thought on abandoning such privilege on a whim, but it'd been nearly five decades since and he'd learned to live with what was. Silver, young, burdened by the remembrance of what the Light once felt like and the recollection of the wild terrain within; Auri knew scant about the family he had. Extensive, impossible to chart, his father had produced many heirs to a Sinarian fortune that none could touch; the silver elvhen knew he could never rely on him for aid after he'd lost his own pile of gold. "Nyla, right?" From his mother's side, a familiar face within the crowd of the Silverlands and someone he'd been following since the moment he'd heard the seer had set up shop with spell scrolls. It spoke of stability, it lent to the idea that Nyla was here to stay for the time being, so the elvhen turned failed merchant stepped forward in hopes she'd recall the youthful elvhen he once was.

[nylathriasoulseer]

[nylathriasoulseer]

My mom is an actress, but she never really pushed me into it, and it was never something I thought I would be doing. She was very happy I decided to, but she certainly doesn’t offer me criticism because she knows I’d tell her to shut up! Nobody wants to hear that from their mum!

[nylathriasoulseer]

She didn’t need any magic nor any psychic power to recognise what was going on in that mind of Freydis’s. She had lived with a similar mind in her life for three hundred years, what a glorious three hundred years that was. Lyra would wear that same guilt when those she protected got hurt. When she wished she could have done something, anything even if it was impossible for her to achieve. Impossibility wasn’t inadequacies, it was something Nyla had wished she would have told her wife back then “Freydis, don’t let impossibility weigh your soul down. I’m alive, if you hadn’t been where you stood I'm sure I wouldn't be running this shop right now. Pain is part of living.” even if she wished it wasn’t.

“There was an altar to the dragon of change I believe. It had been used recently for a ritual of sorts. Nik and i thought we could revers it, or weaken it, honestly I don’t know what was really going through our heads at that point.” What they had been doing was hurting Evior at the time, but they had continued until Nyla felt an overwhelming force to stop. “There was a demon of despair there. Everyone but Nik left the room, but I lingered in the doorway while everyone left.” She really did think Nik was brave in that moment even now knowing what he was, there was no way Nik knew how that was going to unfold and yet he stood there while everyone left. There were some mixed emotions when it came to Nikandros to say the least. Nyla hoped that there could be change for the country but she had seen history repeat too many times to believe in it fully. “I hope you are right.” all those souls could use a light to look forward to.

Nyla held a warm smile as Freydis tried to find the right words. “Fey or no, I believe that everyone has the chance to access magic. Most don’t have the opportunity or ability to access it easily, but with the right tutelage and conviction anyone can learn how to use magic.” She was no expert but she had seen those with no aptitude gain it through hard study. If she was Fey touched perhaps the use of magic would come more naturally to her. “Okay breath Freydis, you don’t need to know everything about who you are or were… not right now anyways, there is time. Maybe I should have asked a better question. How much access do you have to your magic?”

It might not have been Freydis’ fault that the mage had targeted Nyla, but the veil maiden still viewed it as her responsibility. She was usually far better about protecting the whole of the group in battle when she fought with a more clear mind, or at least she liked to think she was. Her potential was limited by proximity, this much was true; it bothered her incessantly that she was only ever truly about to aid those who were within an arm’s reach. For a moment, she was sullen in the guilt of her limitations, but the Elvhen shopkeeper didn’t need to be saddled with Freydis’ ever-growing list of insufficiencies. Growing that list also had not been when Freydis had come for–and if she insisted on missing the forest for the trees she may overlook Nylathria’s ability to bolster her abilities. Freydis made sure to write down the name of Neven’s apothecary and the cross streets where it was settled for Nyla before she forgot. 

Freydis wondered for a moment if she ought to pretend to look surprised that Nik had carried knowledge he did, but Nyla seemed too smart to see through a pointless ruse. A moment later, she looked perplexed. “Didn’t leave him alone when?” she asked. She had not witnessed the ritual at the temple’s altar, but despite her lack of context for exactly what Nyla spoke and Eivor’s faith in the other Vangaurd Freydis struggled to parse through whether or not she thought Nikandros was safe. At the mention of Iskaldrik’s unchanging ways Freydis averted her eyes in shame; it was unyielding, unchanging, and unmerciful and she had been part of the machine for some time that kept it so, even if she only had been a fledgling noble. “Perhaps after the war things could change…” she suggested in a quiet tone, but she had no idea what Afshin wanted for the future of the kingdom and she already knew she didn’t have the stomach to reassume her role as jarl–if they would even wish to see her return. As Nyla began a lecture of sorts on the types of protection magic, scrolls, and considerations that could be made, Freydis felt her spine straighten a bit to signal her active attention.

Then, a moment later, Freydis found that what ought to have been a simple question left her stumped. “Yes, I am magic, or I have magic,” she began to sputter out, though none of these answers felt quite accurate. “Or, I can use it. I’m not sure if it’s mine, or if it’s borrowed. As you saw in battle with the, uh… the antlers and all, I’m fey. Well, no, that’s not true,” she continued blathering on, “or maybe I am–” she’d gone through the arches and she wasn’t a druid but she hadn’t been born with magic either “or maybe just fey touched, but–well… I’m not really sure exactly everything I’ve seen or experienced means and after all of it what I am.” She had labels: fey touched, veil maiden, but that didn’t necessarily grant her the material understanding she wished she possessed.

[nylathriasoulseer]

“I suppose they can see reason. But I am not one who can help them see such. I’m no Vanguard or elvhen noble or hero of legend. I'm just a woman with flaws, I go home and drink a few glasses of wine, get classy drunk and go to bed. When you said the word demon all I knew was that I would feed it not help it.” She knew her weakness to see her wife one more time could and will be used against her at some point, she didn’t want it to be there. She didn’t want to be ever if it could be helped cause she knew she would fall for the tricks.

“Nikandrons do you know what you're asking? What I have been taught is that you are a one way ticket to the abyss, even with the best will in the world I would have been cautious. How do you expect anyone not to be?” she was scared of him in this very moment, of what he could do. “I can’t tell you I would have helped you. I can’t tell you I would have courage enough to stay in a room alone with you. But if you were suffering, dying in front of me and i could help you, i would.” it wasn’t much but Nyla didn’t think she had much to offer.

Eivor had encouraged broaching a greater understanding, revisiting and challenging Nikandros's preconceived notions surrounding the elvhen of this age. Naturally, Eivor had been wrong, but Nikandros would continue to encourage the dragon to delve into his history and what was taken from him all those years ago. In truth, the elves of this age might as well have been a different species entirely from those that Nikandros had once known.

"Offence taken." Nikandros was Pride, after all. Though the daemon would only count it as a minor slight. "But I settled things with Despair, seems even we demons can see reason." The inflection was intentional, petty in some regard but when it came to contending with spirits they were only as dangerous as those they were feeding off of. Nikandros knew a great deal about despair, but his pride could not bring him to fear the cold creature. "My hubris in the face of Andoral's worship almost cost Eivor a great deal," he'd felt the blows through their connection, but still he'd attempted to purge the site of the offensive dragon's influence. "would you have done anything differently had you known about us?"

[nylathriasoulseer]

MORENA BACCARIN photographed by Mike Ruiz for Photobook Magazine, 2024

[nylathriasoulseer]

A place free from pain? What a luxury that would be, if the place existed Nyla would live the rest of her days there. But fate, life always found a way to beat you down. Over 900 years of existence and she’d never heard of such a place “pain has a way of creepy up on us. No place will be free of it, some place are worse then others but even Avalon isn’t free from pain.” Maybe it would be some comfort for the other to know that what she was asking about hadn’t been achieved in recent history. “Oh sweetheart come here…” she understood holding in your emotions for others to be comfortable. Nyla moved in for a hug, this woman was like an echo of what Nyla had felt for years “I know what it’s like waiting for others to come home, while you can’t do anything to help them. It’s personal to me.” Her arms wrapped around the other. She didn’t need to read the others soul to know how pure it is. “Thank you.” She would dab her eyes with the handkerchief once she was done squeezing the life out of the woman. “Yes a more positive one. I definitely need a place to rest my feet.” She knew a place but she didn’t want to impose on anyone.

She spent her time pouring over tomes and scrolls, adding her discoveries written to print to the Tower's already expansive annals. Calla knew history, philosophy, the stars themselves, and more, but for all the promise she had as a Scholar, she'd always questioned if she was truly powerful. The fall of Aventia gave her the answer: of course she wasn't. A powerful witch would've been able to help, and what could she have possibly done if she'd gone. "But a place safe from pain, isn't that possible? I thought that could be Eterna, but what if..." What if the darkspawn make it this far south? Calla didn't dare speak those words into existence, instead wiping her eyes at the other's prompting. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I would hate to make you cry. The idea of witches getting hurt ... it's very personal to me." As someone who escaped the burnings in Astoria on her bare feet, she would never get used to seeing dead witches. Still, in all her kindness, Calla pulls a handkerchief from her robe to offer the other. "Now that you're caught up, we can discuss more positive subjects. Please don't get upset because of my lamentations, I would absolutely hate that."

[nylathriasoulseer]

They do say there was no better way to come comfortable with a language then to use it. She knew draconic but there was a lack of people to speak in that tongue to. “We all have to start somewhere.” She replied in Elvhen. She would happily continue the conversation in her first natural language. It always took time to heal without magic’s aid, she lacked the know how herself to speed the process up. But this would be a reminder to her that going out on these excursions could have deadly consequences. A hint of mortality never hurt as a reminder that even though her life is long she wasn’t immortal. "It's not you fault that caster pointed their finger at me. I would love to use them, especially since they come recommended by you!" giving a fellow shop keeper her gold was a bonus.

“He has come by but he knew before it all happened. Not sure that anyone but me heard him say it.” Which might be some luck that the potion thief didn’t know she owned the shop. Sliver linings and all that. “He was in the market for answers, why I didn’t leave him alone.” She didn’t mind answering his questions for a demon he was actually quite polite but that didn’t take away from knowing what he was. “That place never changes then? I visited In my younger year when I was feeling daring, explains why you’re so strong.” It was a compliment honestly, she didn’t want to insult Freydis homeland it was a difficult task for someone who didn’t have pride to call it home. Picking up a list she could order off, Nyla thumbed down the page thinking muttering the words protection over an over again. “There several choices there protection that is preparation, reactive, instantaneous. There are a lot of magic done within that, that could be seen as protection. Like stopping a witch by countering their spell, absorbing elements inflicted upon you.” Honestly there were so many choices one could get lost in them. “Let’s start simple, are you comfortable with using any magic?”

It flattered Freydis to know that Nylathria had remembered her name amongst the many other events and details of the day. Her smile became somewhat deeper, somewhat more genuine as she closed the distance between the door of the shop and the dark haired Elvhen woman. “Would you mind if we spoke in Elvhen?” she asked, switching her tongue. “I’m trying to practice–I am a recent learner of the language. Learner…. Learner? Scholar!” It was clear she was still gaining her footing in the foreign tongue. Her brows knit upward with concern when Nyla indicated she was still a little slow to recover; she could forget how hard it was to get a good lick on her every once in a while. It seemed not everyone else was as lucky. “I would love nothing more than to leave the name of a good apothecary with you, lovely shop owner, he’d have you good as new in no time,” she offered. “I’m so sorry you’re still hurt.” She would have to be more mindful in the next battle–she knew she had been so consumed with two or three party members that she had neglected and failed the many others. The guilt twisted in her stomach. And then a slight sense of dread. “Oh… Nik was here?” she asked, her voice raising half an octave. “What was he in the market for?” She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck and tried to think of what she was looking for. “Yes and no–you know I’m Iskaran. This sort of shop would have been…. Contraband,” she explained after taking a moment to search for the right word. “I barely know where your scrolls abilities might start and end. But I suppose if I’m in the market for anything it would probably center on…. Protection?”

[nylathriasoulseer]

After those standing stones Nylathria had something to cling to, validation that she just needed to keep pushing herself out of her comfort zone. That even though she almost got herself killed, she had taken one step closer to her goal… or what she thought was one step closer. She had to belive in that right now.

An unseen servant was helping Nyla stock the spell scrolls in a glass cabinet, only the lower level ones as she didn’t want to attract thieves. The scrolls would been seen to float into the cabinet to the normal eye. The little bell above the door chimed, alerting her to the presence of a customer. The first things she noticed was the lack of symbology adorning him. She couldn’t lie it definitely made her feel more comfortable but she also knew what he was which was scary to be in her shop alone with him.

It was a good question, she had left the room for the very fear of a demon but she couldn’t leave him there why? It wasn’t like at that point she knew what he was either. “Why is a good question. You know I can only answer this truthfully.” Possibly why he had asked. Yes she could skirt around the answer but what was the point in that? “I learned my lesson long ago, no one should be left alone. Demons be damned if I let it happen again… sorry no offence.” No heroic gesture, just an old woman leaning from past mistakes

@nylathriasoulseer location: The Lonely Scroll notes: one owed starter

If Nikandros never saw the people he'd walked those stones with again, it would be too soon. One had stuck out though, one of the few who acted with any measure of care or gravitas that the march afforded. His pride had pushed his tongue into action on more than one account, but his ego could not abide insult. Kansaldi was dead and there was a dead aetherian he could cross off his list.

The Inquisitor's regalia was abandoned, the extravagance diminished for a rich tunic and well-tailored trousers. A pendant emulating the Vanguard still hung on his chest, and rings of his station adorned his hands, but he'd shaken off the pomp and circumstance. Word would inevitably spread, moving away from the order was a point of survival.

"Every other person had the sense to leave that altar." After all, only fools consorted with demons, right? The brazen, reckless few who let emotions get the better of them - incapable of even a fleeting moment of introspection. "But not you," he recalled picking up the ring that Despair had left behind to see the elvhen still lingering in the doorway- watching, waiting. Eivor and that blithering idiot had left Nikandros to his process, but not her. "why?" He looked around the shop at the various spells laid out on scrolled parchment, Nikandros did not know what her ability might be, but it was clear she was highly studied and well trained.

[nylathriasoulseer]

What a day, she just rotated her stock put out new scrolls for sale and they had been snapped up within a matter of minutes. Not that she was complaining the more people that came through that door the better. The more that came in would eventually lead to meeting the soul she was searching for. Gold was gold and it wasn’t like she made a lot off these scroll the purpose of the store really wasn’t to make money. She could definitely hear some poor merchants would screaming at the missed opportunity for profit.

The door bell had been ringing most of the day as people entered to browse and then left. As her business was small she like to give all those who entered a warm smile even if some looked like they had a face like a slapped arse. But when she saw the warm face of Freydis it was easy to smile back at her in kind “Freydis…”. The other woman was some that Nyla had taken notice of it was something about how she protected others that were reminiscent of another she had known. “I could honestly feel better but it will all just take time to heal properly…” there were still bruises, faded, yellowing but still there. “ don’t fret about it I think only Nik realised I owned this place.” Which she was kinda of frightened about. “Are you looking for anything in particular? I can help!”

who: @nylathriasoulseer where: The Lonely Scroll when: some time after the Standing Stones quest notes: please let me if you need anything changed

Freydis was in the market for a few tools she suspected might come in handy in the near future. After dropping a figurative (thought it may as well have been literal) brick of gold at Abelas' charming animal sanctuary to provide Griffon Charms for a handful of dear friends, she had turned her attention to magic scrolls. No such shop would have ever been allowed to exist in the borders of Iskaldrik, and magic was novel to her both in theory and in practice. She was curious about what such a shop might offer and more than open to pushing past the fear of magic she'd been raised to house within her; if these scrolls would help her achieve an increasingly important goal, who was she to turn her nose up at them? When she entered The Lonely Scroll and recognized the face that floated around the displays with no special sense of urgency, a warm and familiar smile spread across her face. "Nylathria," she greeted, taking a few more steps into the shop. She had to remind herself that Nyla and she were still more strangers than anything else and that just because they both likely felt a sense of pride in a job well done didn't mean they shared enough kinship for a hug. Yet. "It's so nice to see you again--I hope you've been safe since we parted ways. I don't know how I didn't put two and two together that this was your business."

[nylathriasoulseer]

Morena Baccarin as Elena Federova in "The Endgame"

[nylathriasoulseer]

A Cosy Night In

Where: Avalon - Sylaise Shore. When: After the Feywilds Standing stones Trigger warnings: Grief, emotions

Part of Nylathria wished she never answered that call to begin with. What a dumb idea that was, some of those people just reaffirmed her ideal that not everyone should know the strength of their soul. Bloody idiots, some of them with far too much unjustified confidence. But all that being said would she do it again? Even if it meant she would almost die again? Now that was the question.

She hadn’t realistically been away from Avalon that long, but there was nothing like its warmth, like the nostalgia. The memoirs of how Lyra would talk about the hero Isseya in front of statues in the Sylaise Shore. That woman was a nerd for Isseya, it was massively endearing, enough that their first kiss was in front of that statue, Nyla protesting it was the only way to shut her up. It had been her favourite pastime teasing her Wife.

Nyla must have been a sight walking through the streets of Avalon, she wasn’t exactly on her death bed but her face was bruised, gaunt, all colour gone from her cheeks. Thankfully most already thought she was the mad woman who lived by herself, drunk most nights singing her lungs out to some bad love ballad. Most who lived near here now were far too young to remember Lyra, to remember the joy that used to come from that memorial that's called a home.

Memorial was the right word, the home looked like it was frozen in time. It was surprisingly clean each memento of a person lost loveling cared for, their achievements in pride of place. A stack of closed letters all in the same hand writing addressed to Lyra claimed a desk in the far corner. Nyla knew exactly where to go when she came in, the kitchen. Retrieving a bottle of wine and a glass she kicked off her boot and went up stairs. The house had a chill about it, luckily in her room she had a fireplace and was quick about putting a few logs on, but while that warmed up the room she got herself a blanket and snuggled up on a rocking chair in front of the fireplace. Popping open the wine she poured herself a heft glass “ I know it will just be one glass… okay bottle.” she admitted but to what? On the fireplace shelf there stood what remained of her wife Lyra in her urn. 

“You would have been proud of me today, would have laughed at me too cheeky.” The blanket that was now tucked behind her shoulders so it wouldn’t fall down, what looked like two little hands protruded from the blanket to hold the glass of wine. “ I know, I know, don’t need to lecture me, I did the right thing.” The last part was almost in a mocking tone to an Urn that couldn’t respond. “I’m not a fan of this getting hurt part, that can fuck off. Did… did it hurt that much when…” Nyla didn’t have the strength to finish that question and instead opted for a big gulp of wine. “ I found out you could be out there, I kind of knew that already but confirmation was comforting, i don’t feel so crazy any more searching for you. Whatever you are now I don’t care I’m always going to love that soul of yours. But if you’re pining over Isseya again, girl we are gonna have problems.” Nyla was trying to talk to her wife with humour because if not she would cry and crying led to drinking bottles, she was trying to be responsible because her best friend would be able to knock her out of the next 100-year bender. “You wouldn’t believe what Lailani gone and done! She Sliver!” the night ensued from there gossiping to an urn. Given enough time Nylathria would drift off in her chair bundled before the fire with a content heart. 

[nylathriasoulseer]

MORENA BACCARIN for Rose & Ivy by Brendan Wixted (April 2022)

[nylathriasoulseer]

While others had been fighting, trying to survive a siege Nylathria had been setting up a shop called the lonely scroll. It would be insensitive to some that while a city was being attacked by the darkspawn she was trying to start a business. At least she wasn’t taking advantage and making the prices ludicrous high, they were close to cost because it wasn’t about making money, it was about getting people through the door.

Oh Lailani she was so happy to see her, there was no one who was closer to Nyla. No one who has been by eachothers side for so long. So it was a shock when Lailani hadn’t returned in twenty years “and you didn’t step inside Avalon, your going to become dusty now” she gave a knowing look of explain yourself to her friend. “I’ve been taking in the sights for a few weeks now, I even have my own space. I can show you it paired with some afternoon tea?”

who? @nylathriasoulseer when? Post fall of Aventia where? Eterna

Turning back to Eterna when they have declared Aventia lost was a bitter pill to swallow. Part of her had rebelled against the order, demanded to turn around and fight until the bitter end to ensure that the people of Aventia didn’t lose their home. Lailani had held them as they cried, soothed their fears and anguish and reassured them until hope took root, and yet she could do nothing but watch as the armies pulled back. 

Bitter optimism always pushed her forward, but even then, there is a pit of disappointment as she moves through the streets of Eterna. The light will not always prevail, she knows, but the hope is always there that it will. Another sigh filled with melancholy leaves her as she weaves through the streets, following the careful tug of the Weave as it leads her forward. Always forward. 

For a moment, she wonders if there will be another fight when she reaches her destination, but then her eyes fall in Nylathria and her spirit lifts as the tug disappears. 

“I see you have stepped out of Avalon,” she calls out, tone teasing and smile wide. “Going around taking the sights?”