From the day Alina began her exile from the fallen Illumina, Alina has carried exactly one treasure with her that neither time or the most dedicated efforts of the Riders or even the Slaugh was able to take from her. It's the treasure she's been most fiercely protective of, that guided her through so many difficult decisions and painful moments. It's the treasure that she turned to on sleepless nights. It helped her prove her existence when nothing else could. 

Memory. Alina has always remembered the little details of her life more sharply than other people; she's always been able to conjure a moment in her head to push her forward whenever she's needed it the most. They're the fuel that power her love. But consequently, she's also always proved completely defenseless against them. She's never once in her life gone to Askaia and [i]not[/i] gotten lost in the mist, not even with Rita holding her hand the whole way into the city. They were like water, and she was a fish. It couldn't be that surprising that she was having more trouble than any of the others making it back to the surface again.

There's an awful lurching feeling in her stomach when she looks up at Eupheria. The shards of her mind that are rooted to the Now register shocks of color, and tell her that all of the colors are wrong. She feels ill. And at the same time, somehow oddly comforted, which only makes the sickness creep deeper inside of her. This too is family. Her family. Her--

All at once she tumbles bodily into the present, without a single effort to right herself or fall gracefully as was her nature. She tumbles in an errant tangle of princess and unseemly yelping. Her own colors flare brightly around her to protect her from the journey. And then... she stops. And then they stopped.

They are overjoyed, her lights. How long has it been since they've seen these sisters?! Alina feels a jolt of pure terror as for the first time in her life, they disobey her. She stops glowing, all except for her crystal eyes. Instead, above Eupheria two sets of lights twirl, dance, chime, and twinkle in the language of their kind. Even Gold floats somewhere between the two of them, as if it were a mother supervising this rather large gala. And though Alina tried immediately to call them back, nothing happens. Nothing at all. Her lights are there, but they won't listen to her. 

[Alina is damaging the first layer of her lights to avoid damage from the fall, but after that they become the precious thing she loses]