[And in a world where everything is magic and anything is possible... His thoughts stray, as they often do, back to Erik. When he imagined he was talking to his brother down in the hopeless darkness of the pit, and he'd clung to the possibility that whatever was left of Erik in death had somehow found him across the universe, it must have been a hallucination. He was on the brink of starvation, and spores were warping his mind.
But what about at the end of the summer, when the Heralds swept across the land? Was he really only imagining that Erik was there, or...? It hurts to wonder, the hope of it a double-edged sword.
River points to the children's shadows, stretched out behind them as the sun sinks toward the horizon, and Wilhelm looks but doesn't see what she wants him to see. He shakes his head.]
The shadows?
[All he sees is the children sneaking looks at his bag, as if making sure that he hasn't run off with their precious doll.]
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But what about at the end of the summer, when the Heralds swept across the land? Was he really only imagining that Erik was there, or...? It hurts to wonder, the hope of it a double-edged sword.
River points to the children's shadows, stretched out behind them as the sun sinks toward the horizon, and Wilhelm looks but doesn't see what she wants him to see. He shakes his head.]
The shadows?
[All he sees is the children sneaking looks at his bag, as if making sure that he hasn't run off with their precious doll.]