Melinoë has not felt this exhilarated since October of last year, when she was beginning to see herself less as Dulcinea, the human shell, and more as the powerful deity she’d been since Time Began. In this nightmarescape, she’s been indulging in having that power restored, from constructing havens to drawing forth armies to fend off the creatures that wish ill on the others. And she’s relished having her body back, a form not seen in years. Merlin was gracious enough to pepper her gown with real flowers, their species both known and strange, their fragrance whatever the company prefers.

There comes a moment wherein something seems to pull at the Goddess, singing in a way that differs from the elusive train, and it draws her up, a halt so severe that the ghost she’s been keeping company with drifts through Mel. When it phases itself to face her, curiosity plain, her features adopt a smile that most would consider feral and she explains, "There is yet another, my darling."

With nothing more than a fluttering of fingers, Mel beckons the ethereal companion forward while she seeks out the source of the deliciousness. It feels as familiar as Viridi, as Set, but not so much as someone from her own pantheon would.

"Come out, come out wherever you aarree," she murmurs, sing-song tone haunting.