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Xane and Mellodia opened there eyes as if for the first in a long time. The fog was cleared, but the feeling of those dreadful hours lingered on for a bit until, ironically, they were forgotten. Xane nodded at Roastako's, almost visibly shaking in anger at the supposed 'name', but managing to say, "Don't worry about it, roasted one. Now...I've been asking Tormand for a while, but he's as vague as ever. Where exactly are you from? We speak the same language, but...I don't recognize the symbols on your ship."

***

"I see..." Lun murmured. "And what of the Wrython? Is that too passe down form lord to lord of the dead Worlds?" he questioned.