Your eyes snap open - it is HIS voice! You whirl, and you gasp; he stands, powerful, in the shadows, and he strides into the light of the drifting candled globes, and you feel the serpent writhing and DYING... he returned! His face, stern, but somewhere, in those features, you can almost see his pleasure at seeing you. After all, he returned for y-
Echo: "Only you can help me, Deionarra. But it was wrong for me to ask you for your help..."
You speak... Deionarra... yet you, it is YOU, gray-skinned like a statue, striding from the light - are you that *scarred*?! Your body looks like it has been bathed in knife blades, the wounds, the tattoos, horrible - yet, you see through DEIONARRA'S EYES, and she sees... how can she SEE you in such a way, she puts a CLOAK over your features, she sees you in such *light*, such terrible longing, *light*... for she... how... can she FEEL such...?
Try to re-focus, brace yourself, hold onto the experience...
You feel your vision tearing, doubling until you are that man striding from the light, it IS you, but NOT you... you feel yourself being TORN; it is Deionarra's experience, but at the same time, it is also *yours*, and you... what...
Echo: "I asked too much of you to accompany me, Deionarra. I have no right to place you in such danger for my sake..."
It is your words, but they are a surgeon's words, chosen with cold skill, without a TRACE of emotion. With every word, you feel yourself SNEERING inside, knowing what the (stricken) girl will see next through her (longing-stained) eyes, and who - are you THAT person, that man TWISTING her with your words, not KNOWING how powerful they are to her, like bolts from a ballista, piercing her breast, her... yet, she SEES only RELIEF at your return. How... how can she FEEL... and not know you mean to...?