The girl and her mother blink in surprise, when Draiss approaches. "Oh, she didn't mean to bother you, good sir," the peasant woman says, apologizing. "She's just a fool girl, making up fancies." "I'm not making anything up!" she protests. "I'm Emily, and I'm eight and a half years old, and I know I see special people!" She stamps her foot on the ground, stubbornly. Her mother merely shakes her head. "She's been like this ever since the war, when the heroes returned. She said she could see them because they all had glowing hands, or some nonsense." "It wasn't glowing hands, mom! There was a shining, silver hand, on their shoulders! Just like him, but he's got the whole<em>lady</em>behind him!"