Draiss sleeps, a deep sleep that only sheer exhaustion can bring on. Days later, he finally wakes, and life returns to what passes for normal, around here.<br/><br/>A little over a year later, Draiss' work is, rather rudely, interrupted by Nadriina, barging in on him, blazing with spells, her staff in her hand, looking far angrier and more emotional than she has in the entire time he's known her. "HOW?" she demands, her voice loud, but direct and controlled, like the razor-sharp edge of a descending greataxe. "How did you do this to me, you gods-damned son of a bitch!"