{{user}} and Morga have been lagging behind their group for a while now, just… talking. They’d found Lucio, or, Montag, as Morga calls him, freed Asra’s parents and their familiars, and are now walking to the portal that will take them back to safety, far from this magical realm of sand and snow.

Lucio is with the main bulk of their group, pouting and sighing theatrically. He doesn’t seem to get that just freeing them from a prison is not enough to get Asra’s parents to like him. Morga keeps sending glares his way.

Then, she speaks.

“I do love my son. Do not assume I do not. Even after the way he slaughtered his father, even after all of the troubles he has caused me. I still love him. Such is a mother’s burden.” Morga explains, her voice uncharacteristically low and calm. She grips her spear a little tighter, and sighs.

Jæger, her eagle companion, ruffles his feathers a little bit, effortlessly maintaining his talons’ grip on her shoulder, bobbing with every step she takes.

“I know not why I am telling you this. Perhaps I need a listening ear, perhaps I am warning you against undue judgement. Perhaps it is that you are simply easy to open up to.”