Andras flopped onto the couch in a manner that could only be described as "undignified." And while she felt herself sink into the cushions, she thought about what Vera said.
'What does that mean, "unless you're Andras?" Is she trying to give me a hint?! Is it a trap? Does she think that I would try and she can use it as an excuse to make fun of me?! ...Can I convince Wolf to peek and then have him get made fun of instead of me? No, he's probably trying to sleep.' Andras couldn't find an answer despite thinking out the possibilities.
Andras struggled to sit up. It was hard to think of something other than sleeping, given her exhausted body and mind with soft couch. Yet at the same time, the Root demanded its host, Andras, something most important: food. Or rather, she herself was hungry, but if anyone asked her, she would definitely have said the first version.
Andras stumbled around the darkened house, feeling her way for a kitchen. She eventually found a refrigerator, which she quickly opened and ransacked without skipping a beat. After laying waste to any food she could find, she tried to feel her way back to the couch.
She didn't want to turn on any lights in case that bothered someone, so Andras had trouble. Her legs were both uncoordinated and felt like lead, and her single eye didn't help the situation. She eventually stumbled through a door into something cushioned, and moments afterward, she was asleep without a thought, happy to leave the day behind her.
The night sky of Rhea was reflected in the glimmering artifact's glassy brilliance. Andras cocked her head, and the image was gone, replaced with an unfamiliar reflection of another world. She lowered the chromatic star, and looked at her surroundings. She was in a library, though it was well beyond what she had ever seen in the real world. It was arcane, massive, and seemingly had little respect for conventions of architecture: the ancient-looking bookshelves extended into the sky as well as the horizon, lined with uncountable numbers of books.
"A seemingly useless trinket, at first. But by now you would see its use, would you not? Others indeed have."
"Huh?" Andras turned around, and found herself face-to-face with herself. There were large differences - her hair was impossibly long, she was draped in ornate robes which were marked with glowing runes, and most startlingly was her deep blue eye, the other covered by her barely handled hair. But her face was Andras's, no doubt, though even that differed slightly in the emotionless and cold look that she gave. "Who-"
The doppelganger cut her off. "Your penchant for delusion is unmatched. No doubt you will think of a good answer to that question on your own." It was indeed true that Andras had already considered ten different explanations. Of course, that statement alone doubled the possibilities. "You are familiar with what you call Perfect Alexandria, but you still do not command it correctly. Perhaps you may remember this place? This is not the first time you have learned something new about your power." The other Andras slowly walked down the aisle of bookcases, scanning the spines of the countless books with a dispassionate look.
Andras took in her surroundings once more, looking amongst the spines of the books. Andras recalled a cherished but hazy memory from her childhood - "The time the Root awakened?! Were you there? Or... here?" She quickly jumped to the doppelganger, trying to grab her shoulder. Her hand went right through, and the other Andras folded into a mist, an illusion the entire time.
"I am here solely to unlock an aspect of your power that you have seemingly been ignoring. One that could be considered only as the most basic fundamental of magic. It is actually quite simple, but since you have foregone the basics, well..." The voice continued, originating behind Andras this time.
Andras turned, but her vision was obscured as the other Andras touched her hand to her temple. Her senses were overloaded immediately, and Andras could not tell if she was being taught something new or it was indeed something she knew the whole time, or whether the thoughts within her head were hers at all.
'A representation of leylines, not cast as a spell or created as artifice, but a magical link to sources of power beyond this world, accessible through a different means of magic entirely.' The thought echoed within Andras's mind for an eternity, while her mind slowly pieced together what the words were meant to tell her.
Andras turned in her sleep, mumbling, "...representation...leylines..." as she slept soundly on top of Vera's bed.