[center][h3]The Chalk Prince, the Prisoner, and Frisk[/h3]
[@Majoras End] [@XoXKieroBombXoX][/center]

After Teba disappeared into the gathering dusk, soon to be night, the two who remained looked on for a few moments longer, more or less crushed by the weight of the archer's condemnation and the innocent life they failed to protect. Though the guttural screams and twisted, unintelligible words of the Nordic undead had fallen silent, the cruel wind still howled across Dragonspine's cold, impartial faces of stone, the stark and miserable mausoleum of one more unfortunate soul.

Unable to stand the stillness, Frisk moved first, collecting the vestiges of their enemies from the snow where they had fallen. Albedo watched through solemn red eyes, scarlet as the sunset that these winter clouds hid away from him, as the child tottered stiffly between each one. In turn Frisk destroyed each one, perhaps in a final act of revenge, and from those prismatic remnants obtained the spoils of a hollow victory. A bow, a shield, a crystal, a fruit, and in a twist of the knife, a handful of ghastly bones...whatever extra security they might offer, if Frisk knew how to wield them, would do little to quell the pain inside. Regardless, Frisk kept them all, and Albedo made no claim to them. A shadow of interest passed over his features, however, when the child crouched down in front of the one that bore Melony's image. The moment Frisk embraced that spirit, a dazzling lightshow blossomed in the snowy twilight, so bright that it forced the alchemist to look away.

When he could finally bear to look at Frisk once more, he found that his companion was a child no longer. Instead of a nondescript kid, he beheld a woman in her mid-twenties, a little  portly beneath warm winter gear, with longer hair that ran a distinct gradient from cream-white to chocolate-brown, like a dessert melted in summertime. His eyebrows rows as he registered the remarkable transformation, and Frisk seemed just as surprised as he was. The sheer bewilderment that accompanied such a drastic physical and mental change seemed to take the edge off her anguish, but she managed to keep a hold of herself, and focus on what came next. With Melony gone, the torch had been passed, and the responsibility of getting her affairs in order fell to Frisk. Even though she'd only just now learned what Pokemon were, she also knew that [i]her[/i] Pokemon were out there, scared, lonely, and desperate for their beloved trainer. She wasn't going to let them down.

With her spirit bolstered to the point where she could continue on despite a cracked ankle, she joined Albedo again, who gestured to the cliff beside them. Though their downfall during their fight with the Draugr, it still served as the path forward, and the less sheer rocks nearby could be used to climb up. As his companion turned away went to begin the ascent, Albedo echoed her words. "Down to us."

While her back was turned, Albedo reached for the icy sword he'd planted in the ground, and with a quick, sharp yank, pulled it free. He approached the woman struggling to lift herself up onto the first ledge, his eyes fixed on her back, and his pace began to quicken. Then, without warning, a sudden exclamation off to the left got his attention, and the alchemist's pace slowed back down as his head snapped toward the disturbance's direction. Though smaller than he used to be, the malign blight of the Prisoner's head was unmistakable, and Albedo's eyes narrowed. "There you are." Without missing a beat he leaned his sword against the rock wall and gave Frisk a boost up from below to get her onto the ledge. Then he stared down at the Prisoner as he rolled closer, the young man's expression one of mild reproach.

"Yes, quite a lot has happened after you disappeared into the evening gloom," Albedo summarized. "And little of it good, I regret to say. We were attacked, and Melony did not survive. Teba blamed us, despite flying ahead in the first place, and left in the aftermath." His manner remained somewhat chilly when the Prisoner requested a ride. "You say it's inadvisable to touch you, but then ask to be carried, regardless? Are you perhaps toxic or infectious in some way?" He crossed his arms. "In this form, you do remind me of a slime, which apply elemental effects on contact. I certainly don't intend to be rude, but even if your presence isn't deleterious in some way, carrying you with us is a risky proposition. It would be harder to surmount obstacles, like this wall for instance, and if more enemies appear...you aren't capable of fighting in this state, are you?" Albedo's hypothesis turned out to be one hundred percent correct. "Regardless, if you wish to persevere with us, I will not try to dissuade you. I hope you're not susceptible to the cold, at least?"