The snow, as unexpected as it had been, seemed to be just what the pair had needed. Her own anxiety had cooled, giving way to mere worry, which sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. Yerbol had also calmed, his demeanor returning to the cool, collected normal that she had come to depend on. His hand was a firm, steady weight on her arm, and she returned a soft nod of thanks. 

As the boy spoke of escape, Leoria shrugged her way out of her robes. Carefully, nearly painstakingly so, she wrapped the shimmering orange cube in the cloth. Briefly, she thought that it had seemed to lose a bit of its brilliance; even against the darkness, the bright light was not so stark. She chalked it up to Yerbol's force illumination, though that was mostly because she did not wish to dwell any longer than necessary. The experience had been so incredibly wrong, and the more she thought about it, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. It had been like a nightmare, watching her friend's sanity slip away. And what had the snow been about? Was this the mysterious power of the artifact? [i]Not taking any chances,[/i] the woman mused. Little did she know, the damage had already been done.

She was unable to do anything, and could only watch helplessly as her companion continued to mutter to himself. His mannerisms were more familiar, and she had almost been convinced that he was entirely back to being himself. But the words that he shot into the emptiness of the cavern still sent goosebumps racing up and down her now bare arms.

It was his voice that startled her from the thought. The snow was gone, she noted, but that was not at the forefront of her mind; somehow, it had not been the strangest event of the day. Through a tight-lipped frown, she confessed the concern that plagued her. "Yes, we should go," she agreed, "but I'm not sure that I'm okay. Not really." The pair walked in silence as they retraced their steps, Leoria trying to find the words, and Yerbol giving her the time and space to do so. The door that had trapped them had opened once more, perhaps triggered by the removal of the artifact she clutched to her chest. And she choked back a bout of nausea as she passed the scattered, lifeless bodies of the troops. It was not until the approached the ship, now doused in milky moonlight, that she spoke again.

"I don't feel right. About this whole thing. About what you did. About what [i]I[/i] did. Or, what I think I did." The blonde drug her lower lip between her teeth before adding, "I was so focused on the heat. I was so hot, and all I wanted was the cold. I thought of it, and how badly I wished I could cool down. And then... there it was." Her voice trailed, and she recognized how pathetic it sounded. "I know it doesn't make sense. But, nothing does. Not right now."