"What do you mean?" Morok asked while returning human.
"The moment someone steps inside the barrier, their consciousness is assaulted by Mogar’s. Without the proper training, the mind of feeble beings like us gets crushed and our personality disappears.
"To let the girls inside the Fringe, I had to open a way while drawing on myself most of Mogar’s attention. It allowed them to slip in unnoticed and to experience solely a split-second of pressure before the weight on their minds disappeared.
"On the other hand, even brief exposure to Mogar’s will is dangerous. To separate their personalities from those imbued in the barrier, they had to relive all the traumatic events of their lives.
"Whatever made them the persons that they are today, they lived it all in one go, without a moment to grieve their dead or collect themselves. I knew it might be traumatic, but I never expected that two pampered noble ladies could carry such a heavy burden. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
"The link that I used to protect the girls forced me to experience part of their grief along with my own, almost killing me." Nalrond said.
"Who gave you the right to pry into our past like that? You should have asked for our permission." Friya freed her hand from Morok’s grip and pointed the knife at the Rezar’s throat.
All the self-loathe she felt had turned into an unbridled rage that needed a way to vent. Nalrond’s soft human skin made an excellent target.
"I didn’t see anything. I only experience your pain." He replied while looking her in the eyes. "I’m sorry. I thought you and your sister were respectively a woman unhappy with her life and a magic enthusiast, not two walking sacks of grief."
"At least you are honest." Friya snarled while putting the knife away. "Don’t assume that you’re the only one with a sad past just because we don’t wear our hearts on our sleeve as you do."
"Correction. Now you do." Morok pointed above Friya’s and Quylla’s head where now floated two spectral figures.
While Nalrond had an angry, weeping Rezar coming out of his shoulders, Friya’s Soul Projection represented a young woman burdened with heavy chains secured by a lock.
The woman held the key in her hands, yet she just stared at it dumbly as blood tears streamed down her eyes. Quylla, instead, had an image of herself dressed with the deep violet robe of a Magus.
The Projection looked happy, yet as soon as it tried to cast a spell, her fingers turned into snakes that devoured her inside out. Then, the slithering mass of snakes turned into her body and the cycle started anew.
"Wow, straight for the Magus. Confident much?" Morok said.
"What the heck are those things and how do we make them disappear?" Friya asked while blushing up to her ears.
Aside from the chains, her avatar didn’t wear anything.
"I told you, those are your Soul Projections." Nalrond’s voice sounded cold, with no trace of his earlier guilt.
"You can’t make them disappear until you resolve the issue they represent. I hoped that seeing them might help you both, but now I realize that bringing you are was a mistake. Feel free to leave."
"Why do you say that?" Quylla asked.
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