Spying

Mother Alma hangs motionless in the ethereal plane. Gazing down at César from a corner of the room, she hides, half inside a wall, cautious despite her invisibility. She's been watching since Sendhel left, bowing out for "official business." As much as Danyel protested, Alma had to see if César was really there. Sometimes Danyel makes her wonder if he too can feel when they are apart. Ignoring the nagging absense of his comforting vitality, Alma watches patiently until the foul half-elf finally returns, practically stinking of sex, lucre in hand.

How degenerate a portrait, and yet César is not repulsed; he shows sympathy, joking about the pervert's trove! Oh, what has happened to you, brother, that you find comfort in this animal? Your naive hope is laid bare and my spirit quakes with grief. Surely death in the arena is a greater evil, but that you should have to make that choice, to feel that hope... and to have it dashed! Watch the filth squirm as he shows there was never any hope at all; he was using you from the start. It is you, my brother, who should hold hearts and hopes in your hands! Owl aid me! Help your loyal implement against Vrag bring her brother back to you!

Alma struggles to watch as they draw closer together, as her brother's tenderness is wasted, mocked. Finally, repelled by the sights and sounds of their intimacy, she retreats into the wall and flees the embassy. As she soars above the city, fleeing toward Danyel, her grief and rage overflow. A spectral moan spills down into the dark alleys of the city.