Ulxurix has cleared out a bunch of her dentistry equipment from the centre of the room. Tools, books, objects arcane and mundane clutter the perimeter, making way for a sacred circle drawn within.
“I suppose your little friend enjoyed his souvenir,” Ulxurix says over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” is all Shyan can say. She gives a look to Abia, who remains stone-faced. “Look, can you help us, or not?”
Ulxurix whirls around, her tattoos alight with pulsing anger. “Have I not helped you enough? Did not I mend your friend’s mouth?”
Fassn grins and chomps happily at the air.
“Well, yeah, but this is bigger than that,” Shyan says. “Sorry Fassn.”
“Cang lich,” Abia says sadly.
Ulxurix falls silent, hangs her head. After a beat, she looks back to Abia, her eyes edged with tears. “It was supposed to be you.”