[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

Ophelia didn't look Farren's way, nor did she respond to his praise for fifteen or twenty seconds. She simply stared up at the Moon, her pace slowing slightly, and finally let out a heavy sigh. 

"I can't guide us, not to salvation. Not to a world where you wake up one day and all of this is behind us. I usher in an Age of Light beneath Mother Moon or I stay in the Dream forever. The Waking World... what does it have to offer me now? How much more must I lose? My parents wandered into the woods and never came back, and my mentors were slaughtered by the almost-god who shepherds the Dream. I have no friends or family left in the Waking World, nobody that would give me purpose... I only have this. All that is behind me is ash, and all that is afore me is light... is that the path you want to walk?" She spoke, softly and resignedly. Gerlinde was the only one in remotely a similar position to her, really. She knew nothing substantial of Farren or Torquil's past, nothing that would give her some hope that they wanted what she wanted. Their paltry insight and lack of familiarity with the Arcane led her to assume that they did not seek connection with the other worlds, did not seek to ascend this base level of reality to something greater and brighter--they were experiments who'd turned against their creator, and it wasn't like any of them had ever discussed how this ended before. It had only been a couple of hours, though Ophelia could swear that it felt like days or weeks.

"I suppose we've never given any thought to what comes after. After our purpose is done and the Dream no longer has need of us... If there is an after at all. I... don't know if I want to leave and come back here. Come back to being nothing..." Ophelia added after a few seconds, turning to look at Farren only for a passing moment as she did so before she cradled her head to the Holy Moonlight Sword and lost herself in her thoughts once more.