"That's a start, I suppose," the scarlet witch figured in half-murmured voice, "but, pray tell, what is the Spirit Realm like?"
"Do we possess our mortal powers there the same as here? Or are they superior, even, since us magicians draw our very powers from this realm? Can we die in it? Are we still able to [i]dream [/i], as it were, while consciously walking the realm? Perhaps I'm overstepping my bounds asking these things, your dark grace," she told with a courteous bow that somehow looked - felt - dishonest, "but the more we know of this place, the better our chances of success, yes?"

Jillian, as during the rest of the previous exchange, again showed a capability for surprising emotional change, beginning on a low-willed note and ending in almost playful tones that hinted at the excitement a part of her must feel at the prospect of exploring strange new worlds; not just the wondrous Spirit Realm from whence her precious magical energy came from, but also fabled Fokon with its bountiful flower fields and venerable temples. She had long harbored a desire to dance in the colorful fields, sometimes dreamed of doing so with a mysterious and erotic partner, to promenade in its tranquil forests and experience peace in its holy shrines. Sadly, the infernal deal she struck would forbid her from any of these luxuries, pressed for time as they were, but at the very least she could let her gaze wander over the chromatic expanse of Rodoria's most bountiful duchy and - if fortune favored them - they would awaken from their most harrowing dream there, free of the Withering and free of the Grand Master's shackles. If such was their fate, she would perhaps see to fulfilling her desires after all and maybe Gerald would be the mysterious stranger she always envisioned being with - even if he did not quite match her imagination. Yet it was dangerous and vain to rave of victory just yet. For now they had to steel themselves for the trials ahead and, perhaps more importantly, recuperate from trials past.