Mesaraih flinched a bit as Ester gave him an accusing look, then tried to shrug it off, feigning indifference.<br/><br/>After everyone had stepped inside the house, the blind mage spoke to them once more.<br/><br/>"This is not my true form, nor is this my own body. That is the first thing you should know," he said. Mesaraih raised an eyebrow. Just what sort of magic was this?<br/><br/>Valehna felt she might understand a bit more of what was going on. This reminded her of something she had seen before.<br/><br/>"So then, are you a demon? A spirit of some sort?" she asked him.<br/><br/>The mage seemed to be flitting his eyes between all four of them, though it was hard to tell without being able to see his pupils.<br/><br/>"The second thing you should know," he said, looking straight at Ester, "is that you will not harm anyone here." He posed it as somewhere between a statement and a threat, but definitely not a request.<br/><br/>Mesaraih shifted uncomfortably in his place.<br/><br/>"Well now. These children need more to feel at home. The garden you first encountered outside is how they always see this place. This home," he waved a hand around the place, "also looks different from what you're seeing. Once I sensed who you were, I started peeling away at the illusions."<br/><br/>"And just who do you think we are?" Mesaraih asked.<br/><br/>"You are the prisoners. Some of the few to survive in the area. And I could use your help," he said simply.<br/><br/>Mesaraih stole a glance at the children again. "And them? Who are they?"<br/><br/>"More survivors."<br/><br/>"And you?"<br/><br/>"I... " he crossed his arms, seemingly at a loss of what to say. He raised a palm and it glowed with swirling tendrils of blue energy, then launched it at the floor of the cabin. Everything began to shift and transform around the house. Mesaraih saw his old home in Nevarra, he heard his father singing a song and could almost smell the waft of one of his favorite dishes. Valehna had to fight back hot tears as the room seemed to sprout trees, and birdsong filled the air as well as the flapping sound she often admired in the aravels. Then, as soon as it came, the sensation left, leaving both Mesaraih and Valehna feeling hollow.<br/><br/>Valehna spoke up. "You're... you're a spirit," she managed to say, unsure whether she felt fascinated or afraid. "But of what?"<br/><br/>"Nostalgia," Mesaraih responded, looking down at his hands. Valehna turned to look at him. She felt he might be right, or at least on the right trail.<br/><br/>The mage nodded slowly, as if that seemed to make sense to him. "As I said, I need your help. There's a cave not far from here that leads to what I've known to be referred to as the Deep Roads. Follow the cave to its end until you come upon a large door. Then," he knelt down and moved a small table to the side, revealing a dwarven corpse underneath, "use this key to unlock it. Beyond that, there should be a large deposit of raw lyrium. I need it," he said, his voice almost cracking with desperation. "For the children. I can give you a few potions and herbs to help you on your journey, as a sign of my good faith."<br/><br/>Mesaraih looked around at the others. "I don't know if we can refused his offer of help. But I also really don't like the sound of this..." he said, trailing off.<br/><br/>Valehna seemed conflicted as well. "I don't think he understands exactly what it is he's doing. It seems like he's driven to do nothing else except instill the children with as much nostalgia as possible. One cannot live off of that," she said.