Interesting. She walks further into it, wondering what sort of place she's stumbled onto this time.

It's a cave, it's very definitely a cave. The next change in features is floating rocks—from pebbles to boulders, some of them sporting more of the red crystals. The mist starts thinning again and she can see a person in the distance, fighting what seems to be another person, this one made entirely of lightning and as tall as two adult human males.

"Why is it always fighting," she wonders to no one in particular. "You'd think sometimes there would be something for important and historical tax implementation."

She proceeds towards the person and the lightning person, idly wondering if this is going to be one of the ones she can talk to through illusions, or if there will be nothing for her to do.

The person dodges a lightning bolt, and three spheres of red light are floating lazily in their general direction. The presence of a Flesh Golem betrays this person as a necromancer, in another parallel of the first echo she saw. The person is wearing a fairly interesting choice of armour set but it doesn't seem to be hindering them any. They are wielding a scepter in one hand and a long sharp-looking knife in the other, but they quickly and dexterously switch to a long two-handed staff which they use to cast a chilling effect on the lightning person.

And then the mists dissipate completely, the lightning person looks directly at Vetareh, the necromancer shouts "Look out!" and his Flesh Golem tackles her out of the way of a lightning bolt that hits the exact spot she'd been standing on.

What the—?

There's a rush of sensory experiences. Tiredness and temperature and wind and proper sound and the air in her lungs and she's not in the Mists anymore. She takes half a second to adjust, then huffs a little laugh. She did it. She actually did it.

Which of course is precisely when she's tackled by a Flesh Golem.

"Figures," she snorts.

She scootches out from underneath the Flesh Golem, because this is a bad place to be, much as she appreciates the quick save. She dumps a hex on lightning person; she is very sure about whose side she is on, here. Somehow she expects the necromancer will like the effects of it. Then she gives a sharp whistle. C'mon, lightning guy, do that lightning thing again, she dares you.

It tries, just as the necromancer makes an arcane symbol appear under the creature that makes it move way slower.

"No," she informs the lightning person in a bright cheery tone, and interrupts the lightning thing.

"Thank you for the save, by the way!" she calls to the necromancer. It just seems polite.

"Welcome!" he calls back before closing one fist and making a creature made of shadows with six eyes appear out of thin air. It actually looks quite adorable.

The necromancer grunts as he casts another spell but immediately makes another large symbol appear on the ground below the lightning person and as the symbol disappears the humanoid visibly falters.

Aaaand hex. This one's a delicate but potent little thing that would be disrupted by the lightning person actually managing to do anything, but somehow she thinks that it will have some trouble. Would lightning person like to be so foolish as to try to cast anything?

Not quite yet! Lightning person does nothing visible but the spheres of red lightning start moving towards Vetareh. The necromancer makes a further symbol appear below them, and after a puff of black smoke they start going away from her. "—hey, thanks for that," he says when he notices that this is the third spell that he's cast much more quickly than normal. He switches to the scepter and knife again and points the scepter at lightning person, making skeleton hands emerge from the ground to pull and scrape and punch lightning person.

Now lightning person tries to cast.

"You're welcome!"

She waits for the right moment, and—interrupt. "Still no," she informs the monster sweetly.

Then her second hex goes off and the monster experiences violet colored regret.

It staggers back, and a plague of ethereal green spirit locusts is dropped on its head.

And then the necromancer is covered with dark green shadows and he instantly teleports towards the lightning person and does a series of things a bit too fast to follow and the lightning person suddenly fizzles out.

Well, that's a thing she hasn't seen before. She raises her eyebrows slightly. Okay necromancer, calm down, no need to show off too much just because she's a lady.

"Was that the only one?" she affirms, because she really needs to get that out of the way before she attempts to do anything else.

The shadows around him disappear, and he removes his mask to reveal a handsome if unnaturally pale face with a thin scar from a cut to his right eye. He has one earring on each ear, both of them gold with a bright purple spherical jewel in the middle. "I hope to Grenth it was. Are you alright?"

His minions rejoin him and stand in formation behind him.

"I am not injured," she confirms, which is not the same thing as being all right. "I realize this is a weird question, but what year is it?"

"It's, ah, 1329 AE. Are you sure you're...?"

She lets out a breath. 1329 AE. That's... such an impossibly large number. She flicks a finger to do some quick illusionary math. 263 years. That... is a very long time.

"I was in the Mists," she says very softly, staring at her little illusionary numbers. "And just finally found my way out. I don't think I'm all right."

"Oh, fuck," he says. "I'm so sorry. How—how long...?" He saw the numbers but they—they could be anything, and time in the Mists doesn't necessarily pass at the same rate...

"I'm from Orr," she says, a little wryly. Her body language is casual, but her eyes are sad.

"That's—it—it was destroyed over two hundred and fifty years ago—" He takes a step forward, then looks down at his hands and quickly unclasps his gloves and removes his shoulder guards (the fire in these pieces going out as soon as they get detached from him). He leaves the pieces of armour behind and takes another tentative step forward—not so threatening, anymore, without the spikes and the fire...

"I know," she agrees, softly. "Shortly after I—got lost."

She looks at him, and doesn't... really know what to say. What could she possibly say?

Yeah this... looks like a hugging situation. He takes the extra two steps needed to reach her—he's a tall guy—and slowly, with enough time and space for her to back away if she wants to, hugs her.

Oh. Oh, hugs are things that people can have when they're not in the Mists, aren't they. Yes. Sure. That.

She's just going to tip ever so delicately into him to sob into one of his available shoulders. That sounds like the thing to do right now.

He's warm—either because of the fire that was around him just now, or because of the battle, or because that's just how he is—and he's actually very tall. He wraps his arms around her and lets her sob, not saying anything. He's not sure there's anything to say.

If there are things to say, she definitely doesn't know what they are. She's just... she's so tired, yet also strangely wired. She wants nothing more than to collapse and cry forever, except for how she wants to never ever cry again and go live a long and aggressively happy life just to spite the Mists, because fuck that fucking place.

"Well. I did it. I made it out. D-do I get a prize?" she mumbles into his shoulder.