Liya examined her hands; light flickered along the nerves in them. "I can't imagine," she murmured.

Beside her, the door slid open wider. "...It's rather peaceful, actually," Yoshi answered, "having no body at all. Turning back is the worst part."

He leaned out into the room, his long hair undone and falling around his face. He'd gotten dressed, although his collar was unbuttoned and his shirt was untucked. "I forget how much I do not feel like myself, until I've been shoved back into this shape."

Liya met his eyes, her brow knitting. "What d'ya mean?"

She was interrupted, then, by a series of loud knocks at the door--she and Yoshi both started, swiveling around to look as the door, which opened before either of them had a chance to do anything more.

"Liliya Kiski?"

Standing in the doorway was Cynn Numair--his curly hair was untidy, and he was wearing a plain robe not that different from Liya's own, but it was him. He was flanked by two much taller spirits, both of whom wore green uniform coats with writing on their shoulders. The light fell over them only just. One seemed younger, with their grey hair shaved down on all sides but the top, which was grown out long and wrapped in a ponytail; the other's face was lined, and spots of darker pigment collected on the bridge of their nose and their forehead. They both looked in at Liya and Yoshi, mouths set. Behind them hovered Helly's anxious face, bringing up the rear.

The Cynn, looking carefully impassive, said plainly, "Let's get this over with, shall we?"