"It's beautiful," she says, honestly. "I've seen a lot of things, but I've never seen anyone fight with a blade which shares their own living energy."
(For those who have the eyes to see, Ciri herself is a glowing font of magical energy...but it is passive. For now.)
Their conversation takes them to the door of the building Lan Wangji had indicated, and she pulls it open without waiting, only to gape at what she sees inside:
People. People – and...creatures? – from a dozen different worlds or more. All sitting in quiet conversation, or milling about, or laughing with companions. She sees men with swords and leather armor that remind her of...and she sees women in long dresses and women in trousers, like her. She sees the young and the old, all marked by their own unique world, all communing comfortably together.
And then, there's the window.
Her eyes glued to the explosion and waves of fire through the glass, she feels as though she's falling directly into it. "What is this place?" she whispers, as softly as if she were in a chapel.
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(For those who have the eyes to see, Ciri herself is a glowing font of magical energy...but it is passive. For now.)
Their conversation takes them to the door of the building Lan Wangji had indicated, and she pulls it open without waiting, only to gape at what she sees inside:
People. People – and...creatures? – from a dozen different worlds or more. All sitting in quiet conversation, or milling about, or laughing with companions. She sees men with swords and leather armor that remind her of...and she sees women in long dresses and women in trousers, like her. She sees the young and the old, all marked by their own unique world, all communing comfortably together.
And then, there's the window.
Her eyes glued to the explosion and waves of fire through the glass, she feels as though she's falling directly into it. "What is this place?" she whispers, as softly as if she were in a chapel.