Uaine died in this place, and would never see Astarii again. The laughing priestess had hoped that Aeotha would take her some place and bring her back to the glory that awaited heroes. Aeotha didn't know a thing about glory, or about the fantastic stories that followed her. They simply were life, and she didn't seek out the glory as much as she sought out restoring the peace and righting the wrongs in the world. That was what Aeotha could do. In the place of a thousand other souls which had died trying. Among them the people she had loved most in the world. Uaine would be another soul to carry along with her, if Aeotha made it out of here alive. What Aeotha wanted to know was how she was suppose to help Skandra when she was useless here.
She hated thinking she was useless, and she hated the ghosts which seemed to lurk just outside of her line of sight. She could almost see them stalking the sides of her eyes waiting for her to do something. But what could she do here to help any of them? What beckoned was action. Aeotha had her staff, but against immortals, she could do so little. Even less than normal. It was probably the worst situation she'd been in. Walking in silence behind a man that she.. Aeotha didn't want to see him kill his father. She wanted to see his father dead, but she didn't want to see Skandra do it. Something about the act itself was.. horrible. It left a bad taste in her mouth.
It almost made her ask for a clove. Her mind reeling back and forth between her thoughts. Haunted by the ghosts of her past. Haunted with the thoughts of watching Skandra kill Gershul. Did she pity the man? Or understand him? Certainly in a way, the same way Skandra must have, and different. Outside of it. They were not her family. She had no right to think she could order either to listen to her. But it would mark his soul. It would haunt him, she was sure of this. It would haunt him even if he hated the man. The man was still half the reason Skandra was alive.
Every time she reached out to grasp his shoulder, or to clasp his hand she withdrew her hand before it could even hover there in front of her. Every time Aeotha thought of speaking her voice died in her throat.
But he was insistant.
"I think your father deserves to die. I cannot abide by the idea of destroying the world and everything in it. It's against everything I've fought for my entire life." Aeotha was trying to think of something else, anything else. The feeling of a warm breeze ruffling her hair against her neck, or the warmth that met her cheek when she'd laid her head against his chest when he whispered his life to her, but none of those memories would stick to her mind. "But I.. I've been in dark places Skandra. I've nearly died from heartbreak, I've nearly thrown myself off a cliff when thinking of all the things I wished I could change in this world. To bring them back, to have them back.."
Every word had to be dragged from the deepest and darkest places of her heart.
"I keep wondering what I'd trade to have that. To have one more day. One more conversation. I keep wondering if.. if I would be willing to give up everything I've done since they died. Would I give up the friends I've met.. the people I love now?" And that was the hardest question now. Aeotha thought she knew the answer, that she couldn't be what Skandra's wife was to him, and that Skandra could never be what Eibhear was to her. But would either of them be willing to give up everything they had in order to restore the world to what it had been?