Everything was dark. And everything hurt. The girl opened her eyes, and blinked a few times. She stared at her surroundings, feeling as though there was fire in her stomach. She was in some kind of room, surrounded by boxes. Far above her, she could see rafters. She was still lying down, and now she realized that she had no idea what she was doing here. The fire began to spread from her stomach to her head. Now, everything hurt, and she couldn't think straight. Wonderful. She closed her eyes, hoping for the pain to pass, and waited. How long she lay there, she didn't know. At last, the pain subsided, and she opened her eyes. She sighed in relief, and once again began to think. 'I will figure out what I'm doing here, or my name isn't -' she paused, and at first she wasn't sure why. 'If my name isn't...' Now she knew. Or, she didn't. She didn't even know her own name. Now it was getting scary. "Hello?" She heard a voice, sharp, like an auger's knife. She struggled to sit up, and once she did so, her head was once again filled with blinding pain. She shut her eyes, but willed herself not to lay back down. When she opened her eyes, a little girl was sitting in front of her. Somehow, she looked familiar. "Who are you?" The tiny girl whispered. The girl thought hard. There had to be a name. Some kind of name, that belonged to her. Something swam to her mind, from a long time ago. "Thistle." She breathed. Even as she said it, she knew it was not her own, but it was all that she had. "What's yours?" The little girl pursed her lips. "I'm not sure. I just can't think of it." The girl had blue tinged lips, as though she had frozen, and emerald eyes, with flame dancing around the pupil. "I guess I can call you Emerald, Emer for short." Thistle suggested. The newly dubbed Emer nodded. "Okay. Lets figure out where we are." Emer suggested, smiling timidly. And off they walked, supporting each other, unaware that they had once been mortal enemies, and that each had killed the other.

A small mechanical butterfly flew outside, and the people watching using the camera in its eyes, looked at each other. "Are you certain that there was no other way?" Karane asked, sniffling. "If there was, I would have done it, believe me." Kiera whispered, disappointed with herself for not being able to do better. "Emer and Thistle will live, even though the Empress, and our Phoebe are both gone." Risha listened to this, and put a hand on Karane's shoulder. She turned to Rivenya. "You're a necromancer! You could have brought back her spirit!" She shouted, angry with herself for not protecting her leader. Rivenya shook her head. "No. It wouldn't have been Phoebe, not really. At least this way she still has her old personality. If I had brought her, she would have been a shadow of herself, and Empress Yitranda would have been able to do all sorts of horrible things, with no hope of stopping her." She explained. Even though she didn't sound sad, she was. It was her fault that Phoebe had challenged the Empress alone, and Rivenya had told her to go ahead, and get herself killed. Karane had been silent this whole time, and she was never silent. "We should have protected her." She whispered, and no one else heard. She knew that their sorrow was nothing in comparison to hers. She had rescued Phoebe. She had been Phoebe's right hand. She had a closer bond than any of them with Phoebe, and she hadn't saved her. It should have been her, with the spirit weapon, not Phoebe. It should have been her who had crashed to the ground lifelessly, not Phoebe. It should have been her who had a death link to the Empress, not Phoebe. And it should have been her who woke up with no memories, not Phoebe. She collapsed to the floor, just as Phoebe once had while watching Thistle being dragged away. And just like Phoebe had, she cried until her tear ducts were empty. "Why did you have to go?" She asked, sobs racking her tiny body.