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"And what would you consider 'real,' Watcher? The truth that was experienced and remembered? Or the one that burned out only to be swept under the rug and forgotten like ash from a fireplace?"
"'Lean upon me.' You feel the weight in her words, as if her hands are on your shoulders. You feel the questions in your mind lose their edge... and become merely words. 'As I lean upon you. You shall be my eyes - as I shall be your hands when the time comes.'"
"Watcher, do not let this girl and her child become fodder for revenge. Let me touch her mind... I can free her from this snare... as well as from the memories that hold her captive."
"But what then? Is it better to stand by in the face of tragedy? To let it wash over the world, a hungry tide?"
"[The Grieving Mother rocks on her feet.] There is a way, Watcher! There is hope yet..."
"[The Grieving Mother claps her hands once, setting off the music of chimes.] After long years, let their wounds be healed, their tears dried..."
"[The Grieving Mother reaches toward your mind with hers.] Bring order to the chaos here."
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