Neda bathed in a familiar circle of light- staring up at a well-known visage. The bright sun stung her eyes from the circular foramen far above her head- brightening the blue skies of the Blighted Lands. Her throat was sore from her screams, her ankles felt as if they would buckle under her weight- a result of her hours’ worth of jumping in place in desperate attempts to reach the sides of the well, where she might be able to find enough of a hold to climb. But every time she got anywhere close to the pit’s rim, she would fall back down again- back into that hopeless, dark abyss.

Her throat burned from all her screaming, but worse by far was the pressure building over her chest- that squeezing, painful sensation of someone gripping her heart- tightening their grasp with every passing second.

“Asrael! Asrael- help!” She screamed once again, only to hear her own voice echo in the impenetrable darkness surrounding her. She could not stomach the idea that the soon would soon set beyond the well’s rim and by long, she would be fortunate if she’d be able to see her hands. She fell to her knees and let loose a pained shriek- not because her knees were hurt in the slight collision, but because she felt something she had not experienced in some time... hopelessness... dread. It felt far worse than ever before- far worse than when she had last stood in that circle of light and dreaded the coming night. She had survied it before- she had survived thousands of these nights... why, then, was it now so difficult to imagine living a split second more in those dreary, dark depths?

Her only crime had been to be born with magic in her blood and for the sin of being born, she had lost what little she ever had. Rallo- her rock and pillar, her daggers, her friends. Her eyes widened at the realization. She choked back her tears as she remembered her companions and racked her mind for what had befallen them, when she finally remembered... that white hair, those green eyes- that white robe. She shot up to her feet as the realization dawned upon her-… that sandlurker- that bitch had played her tricks on her again- that ability that frightened Asrael so.

“Assie... Assie’s alone with her!” Her panic faded for a moment as she remembered her companion- no... not faded... it transformed. For months on end, she had relied on Asrael to do everything for her- to save her life, to feed her, to make certain she washed herself and slept enough. The supposedly uncaring, cold man had rescued her from this very darkness, only to continue to care for her, as Rallo had before him. And what had she given him in return? Her panicked, pathetic screams for more- for another helping hand in her time of need... but... if he was out there- with that girl, then he needed as much help as she did- perhaps even more. No; definitively more.

She squeezed her eyes shut and assumed her thinking-stance, the scratching of her chin- the expression she had stolen from Asrael and pondered her situation...

From what Asrael had told her, she was inside her mind- thrust back into her Pit, which meant that she was still standing there in that room with the mirror, in between Bartholomew and Asrael- had she not taken him yet. All she needed do was open her eyes- escape the pit and peer through the veil shrouding her mind. If she could do that, then she would not only find her beloved savior... she might even be able to save him, for once. If so... perhaps he would finally make her his Pa'namph.

“C’mon, Neda... he needs you... snap out of it.” She muttered and intensified her efforts to see the unseen- to look beyond what was not truly there and escape that horrid pit.