Something uncomfortably bright and blurry flickered in front of her vision, as Dasha peeled her dry eyes open. Even that slight motion hurt, and her head was pounding fiercely. An involuntary groan escaped her cracked lips, and something warm and sticky dribbled across them, leaving a distinctly metallic taste on her tongue. Her wings were bent wrong beneath her side, and dug into it painfully.

Dasha didn't want to move. She didn't even think that she could. She was alone out here, severely injured, and the moon was annoyingly bright overhead.

Perhaps she should take the sign for what it was. It would be so easy to just... go to sleep again.

The others would be waiting for her though. 

Dasha choked down another carefully shallow breath that burned her dry throat. This was going to be painful.

Painful quickly turned to impossible, as she couldn't even support herself long enough to sit up. She fell back onto her side with a scream, hitting her cheek with a jolt. Tears began to well up, spilling over. Everything was the wrong color, too bright or dark, with confusing halos around it all. She didn't even want to think about how much blood she had lost. She was certain it stained her face and soaked her clothes, and the earth beneath her was too damp on an otherwise dry night. She tried to blink away her tears.

Dasha couldn't blink. Something was keeping her eyes open. They didn't feel dry anymore, but her tears weren't stinging either. Slowly, inch by slow, painful inch, she slid her hand up to her face, wiping at the substance dripping down her cheek. 

Her fingers came away coated in black tar.

Dasha let her arm fall limply against the cold earth. She didn't even know what to think of the implications of that. She didn't even want to think, period.

She lay still, a dull ache spreading outwards from her spine. The colors she saw through her tar covered eyes were still wrong, but the halos were becoming clearer. Shapes and symbols spiraled through them, some shooting by erratically like butterflies, others plodding along consistently like clouds, and even others humming in zigzags like flitbirds. 

It was a beautiful mystery, one that she could easily see a mage spending her whole life time on, all just to decipher the first stanza of this puzzle, this hidden language of the universe. 

Had she been infected with a gift instead then? Like curses, they could pass through fluids such as blood or tears. What a strange and lovely surprise! 

But how confusing! Just who was the strange mage woman? Fia's mother, who they had left in that cavern alone. What had she known, and what had she done? 

Dasha hoped that the bodies could be recovered, both hers and Krell's.

If she didn't find a way to get herself up and moving, that list would soon include herself as well. Her broken heart demanded it, but her spirit stirred with wonder at seeing the myriad halos that encompassed everything, and her mind stubbornly refused to abandon her remaining friends no matter where they were. Up she went.

Up she did not go. A severe injury remained severe, no matter what she willed otherwise. 

There.

There it was again! That strange voice, that echoed from inside her thoughts but outside her mind. Dasha felt something she couldn't quite explain, nudging her to tilt her head upwards once more. With a hiss that sent her sore throat aching, she looked back towards the two moons, their silver beams of light radiating much brighter than they had any right to normally be. 

Perhaps it was another distortion of the tar. But nevermind that, what was she supposed to be looking at here?

White and silver characters danced upon the moonlight. Their tips were fringed with long tails of lace, and they wove between each other in an intricate and never ending dance. It was pretty to look at, even in her weak and injured state, and Dasha felt her heart grow calmer as she watched them spin. She wondered if this was a language that could be learned, understood eventually. If only she had a notebook!

Well, so long as she was wishing, she might as well wish that they were all safe and unharmed back at the valley, Krell and Fia's mother included. Wishing would do her no good. 

Dasha heard a distant roar echoing elsewhere in the mountains, as a couple of the more territorial monsters came to blows. Her stomach felt much queasier at such a visceral reminder. Being eaten by some of these monsters was a slow and unpleasant way to meet one's end. Dasha wriggled in place, shifting her position slightly. She would have to keep trying to stand, until she either succeeded, or collapsed and fainted. There was no way around it.

Wait. Look.

Dasha would very much like to yell at this mysterious inscrutable voice and demand an explanation, but unfortunately her throat wasn't exactly in good working condition. Or mediocre working condition. Sorrows, at this point, she would settle for mediocre snoozing condition!

As she had not even that, Dasha settled for thinking irritated thoughts while doing exactly as she was told, because her only other option was suffer then die, and at least the voice seemed to want to prevent the dying part.

Besides, the moon letters were pretty, she wasn't going to complain about being made to stare at that.

Dasha wasn't sure how long she watched the graceful dance of letters playing out across the sky, but just when she was struggling to keep herself awake, a thin purple thread appeared in the air high above her. 

She could not see its beginning, nor its end, but like a spider's line caught in a sunbeam, the part she could see flickered in and out of existence, all by the whims of the fickle moonlight.

Slowly, she watched the thin thread shimmer closer, drifting towards her. As it drew nearer, she could see it was composed of millions of tiny letters, all clustered together densely, assembling and reassembling like a jigsaw puzzle. 

Now.

Now what? 

But somehow, she already knew the answer. Dasha reached out, with an aching, trembling hand, and lightly brushed the thread with her badly abused fingertips.

Her world exploded.

At least she wasn't in pain any longer.

The purple thread glowed violently, and that was her only warning before it started dragging her along. After a moment of surprise, Dasha pushed herself forwards, gathering speed as she followed it. She didn't know why, it had just felt right. 

Besides, this was fun! It felt like flying again.

Creation tore past, fractured like shards of shattered glass. Here she saw someone's home in the valley, a sooty window veiled by garishly patterned curtains. In another place, she saw the green river Grenar, where she'd grown up as a child. The images were disjointed, warping in and out of reality with what seemed like no rhythm or reason at all, as her spirit continued to race along the purple thread. 

Then Dasha glimpsed something that made her grab the thread tightly and yank herself back. With all her might, she forced it to bring her to a screeching halt. 

Apparently one could hurt one's spirit. Spiderweb scars trickled across her, not scars she could see, but scars she could feel. It was a threat she did not understand, but she could feel herself weighed and found wanting, though her judgment was to be yet withheld. Dasha needed to be careful, whatever this was, it could very well be how the mage woman had gotten into her accident.

But Dasha had stopped. She remained still, her unseen spirit hovering over Noonin and Fia, as they climbed down the mountain in the dark. 

Even now, she could see letters fluttering around their radiant halos. Noonin's were green and gold, geometric shapes that circled and slithered around him, shedding parts of themselves, only to devour a different shape and grow again. The symbols were ever changing, and even if they made words, they went by far too quickly for her to read.

Fia's were different. Tiny pale spheres that spun and collided, sending violet sparks up each time they did. Pink sigils whirled around the spheres, the lettering too small to make out, even if she could catch one to try and read. 

Forgetting everything for a moment, Dasha reached out, tempted to do just that. 

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." 

The voice was clearer and louder than ever, and this time it came from directly behind her.

Dasha whipped around. 

Another spirit, like herself, hovered amongst the halos. She was unseen, yet Dasha could sense the shape of her, from her wispy white hair, to her large leathery wings. It was a presence, she quickly realized, that she recognized.

"You- You're Fia's mother, aren't you? What is all this? What's going on?"