Quinn could feel it. [color=black]Quinnlash[/color] could feel it too, she just knew it. Something really, really important was coming. Why else would Besca talk about this man from hundreds of years ago? Why else would it have interrupted a major interview, her [i]first[/i] interview? Whatever it was, it needed to be [i]big.[/i]

She hadn't learned that much about Aridea, all told. She hadn't even heard of it before she left her own personal hell, and she hadn't had much time to study up about it afterwards. She knew a [i]little[/i], but not nearly as much as Besca was telling her. But...[i]why?[/i] Why was it so crucial that she—[i]they,[/i] Dahlia was there too—know the story of a long-dead prince of a long-dead empire? It just didn't make any—

[i]And then it did.[/i]

Quinn's perception narrowed down to the tiniest point as the image of [i]Dammerung[/i] appeared in front of her. She could feel her heart beating within her chest like mad. Every other sound was muted, and her eye was wide with barely-restrained horror. A sound like choking burst from her as she struggled to fix her eye on what she was seeing, and her pupil shrank to a pinprick. The last time she had seen the swordsman—could she still call it [i]Dammerung?[/i] She didn't know—it had been pulling back a fist to crush Dahlia like a bug. It had nearly killed her. It had nearly killed Roaki. It had nearly killed [i]Quinn.[/i] And the images of that horrifying day flared before her eye as she stared. 

She was paralyzed again, brain barely firing as it refused to accept what was right in front of her. She was silent, staring, and without realizing it, she dug her fingernails into the barrier of the jacket sleeves on her upper arms. 

All that came from her mouth was a strangled "[color=ffe63d][i]what?[/i][/color]"