Amdirlain’s PoV - Maze
With the killing of nearby entities, she’d quickly provoked the guardians’ reappearance. The burning pain from the memories echoed within the vines and spurred her on. A punch shattered the first unit without time for its usual request.
Blasting through them without hesitation, she only bothered to check with Analysis when new units made their appearance. The change in spear style had marked the Tier 3 she fought last time, which possessed not only a Knight class but an accompanying jump in stats.
While Tier 4 had shown the first signs of runes across the surface of their outer shell, it was insufficient reinforcement to keep her fists or psi techniques from ripping them apart.
[Species: Maze Guardian - Tier 4 (Construct)
Class: Soldier / Scout / Fighter / Knight
Level: 60 / 60 / 60 / 60
Health: 16,440
Defence: 604
Melee Attack Power: 650
Combat Skills: Broad Spear [M] (50), Grapple [M] (45)]
Though the hardened material of Tier 5 took quite a beating before it dissolved, her destruction of them slowed.
[Species: Maze Guardian - Tier 5 (Construct)
Class: Soldier / Scout / Fighter / Knight
Level: 70 / 70 / 70 / 70
Health: 27,300
Defence: 684
Melee Attack Power: 745
Combat Skills: Broad Spear [M] (60), Grapple [M] (55)]
A kick had just sent a decapitated Tier 5 spinning away into another phalanx when a metallic chime struck. The air about her glowed, and before the noise stilled, Amdirlain stood on the grassed poolside. Bemused to find the spear she had just liberated still in hand, she spun it, and in True Sight, the enchantment’s glow became a firework’s pinwheel.
[Combat Summary:
Maze Guardian - Tier 1 x 258
Maze Guardian - Tier 2 x 514
Maze Guardian - Tier 3 x 1,026
Maze Guardian - Tier 4 x 2,050
Maze Guardian - Tier 5 x 72
Total Experience gained: 66,178,600
Fallen: 13,235,720
Scion: 13,235,720
Sora Master: 13,235,720
Psion: 13,235,720
Warrior Monk: 13,235,720
Death Strike [M] (59->60)
Energy Drain [S] (32->33)
Ki Movement [M] (41->42)
Ki Flight [Ap] (11->14)
Tremor Sense [J] (13->15)
Agile [S] (90->91)
Clairsentience [M] (22->23)
Telekinesis [M] (6->8)]
The spear continued to whirl in her hands until Amdirlain heard the chime ring again, but rather than the overwhelming sound wave, it was far in the distance. Tossing the spear into her hidey-hole, she didn’t even wait to see if it would melt away. Teleport placed her back where she’d been shunted from and she waited impatiently for the next chime.
When it came, she was disappointed by a noise no louder than a crowbar clattering across, and Amdirlain shifted locations.
Reappearing in the main corridor, she waited for another ring and raced towards the sound while it still echoed in the passage. Leaving dozens of junctions in her wake, Amdirlain sprinted along the main corridor for hours before it, at last, came out of an adjoining passage, and she altered course.
A push with True Sight to break the illusion's effect only took a moment, and Amdirlain paused on the chamber’s threshold. At the top of the stairs going up, a blazing curtain of white flames had replaced the stone barrier. In True Sight, the energy was a curtain of destruction, and Amdirlain hurried on.
Amdirlain found a silent battle between seven shapes swirling in the passage. The aura in the battle’s centre showed demonic energies that spiked out erratically to outline a massive arachnid. Its foes were six dog-like shapes, their auras showing wild Celestial energy as they instantly shifted positions erratically around it, snapping at legs and vanishing again. Beyond the fight, Amdirlain could see three keys gleaming on the ground.
[Name: Olessian
Species: Vitiate Weaver (Suppressed)
Class: Scout / Corruptor / Dominator / Hunter
Level: 61 / 62 / 59 / 61
Health: 4,990
Defence: 388
Melee Attack Power: 272
Combat Skills: Claws [M] (15), Bite [M] (12)
Details: Having sworn to the service of Umbral, it received a promotion opportunity to transform from its infernal species.
Trial rating: Easy]
[Goddess: Umbral
Aspects: Corruption, Decay, Entrapment, and Defilement.
Umbral is an intermediate power known on twelve worlds; she maintains her Domain in the Minauros, the Third Plane of Hell. ]
The Devil made a series of rapid strikes at the dogs, and in response, Amdirlain’s fist struck the monstrous thing off-balance. The unexpected motion had the pack give it space. Once they were clear, a spinning kick blasted it back down the passage. Amdirlain barely caught the surprised reaction from the Celestial dogs’ minds, but that didn’t stop her from following up repeatedly with Energy Blast until the thing was a smoking ruin. On the heels of its destruction, there was a double chime of ringing metal. As the sound died away, the auras of the Vitiate Weaver, along with the dogs, vanished.
[Combat Summary:
Vitiate Weaver x1
Total Experience gained: 10,050
Fallen: +2,010
Scion: +2,010
Sora Master: +2,010
Psion: +2,010
Warrior Monk: +2,010]
Analysis
[Species: Vitiate Weaver
Details: The natural form of this species of Devil is that of an armoured spider, but as they progress in power, they develop shape-shifting abilities. These devils specialise in providing favourable terms with the initial contact, working towards having a pawn to enable long-term plans to bring the downfall of multiple individuals. ]
Her curiosity about its species satisfied, Amdirlain didn’t worry about Umbral’s reaction or if she’d even learn what happened; instead, she rushed for the keys. When her fingers touched the first, she found its purpose impressed within her mind: she could only pass through the flames with a key in her possession. Scooping it up, she gathered the others and moved back to the exit chamber, only to find the stone barrier restored. Not wanting to risk the keys’ loss, Amdirlain started back towards her region on foot.
Sage’s nix-knacks stayed in his hide-away. Hopefully, these don’t fade away when I put them in mine, but they’ve already lingered longer than destroyed foes.
When she arrived at her space, she crouched, found the dress still present, and set them atop its folds. After nearly an hour of waiting, the keys were still present, and she teleported back to the weaver’s region. Once there, it was a short hunt to find the chambers she needed and the second corruption spirit’s aura hadn’t even faded when the first Tier 1 Guardian appeared.
“Please return to your allocated accommodation.”
“I don’t suppose we can take up where we left off?” Amdirlain asked hopefully, giving the Guardian a bright smile.
It merely shifted into a ready stance; its spear pointed in her direction. “That is not part of the protocols.”
“Will the keys disappear?”
“Perhaps you should go back and watch them if you’re worried.”
“I’d tell you to have a heart, but you’re just a tin man,” snipped Amdirlain.
“What are you talking about?” asked the unit, losing the flat tone in its confusion.
Amdirlain sighed and motioned it to come at her. “Nevermind.”
The first step it took saw Amdirlain Teleport behind it, and her kick spread it along the passageway. This time she didn’t play games that spread them throughout the corridors to chase after her as she killed. Rather, as each group appeared, she smashed through them, taking them out as expeditiously as possible. It was rapid-fire destruction that didn’t slow until confronted by a unit with a fresh form.
No longer furnished with an outer steel shell, the unit was a humanoid skeleton with exposed muscles and bones that gleamed with mithril’s silver sheen. Nestled in its joints, Amdirlain’s True Sight revealed gemstones covered in enchantment formations.
[Species: Maze Guardian - Tier 6 (Construct)
Class: Removalist / Battlefield Caretaker / Elite Knight / Elite Scout
Level: 30 / 30 / 30 / 30
Health: 79,600
Defence: 1,212
Melee Attack Power: 1,245
Combat Skills: Broad Spear [M] (80), Grapple [M] (75)
Details: A focused combat construct used to enforce cooperation within the Maze.]
“Upgrades?”
“You will return to your accommodation.”
Amdirlain stopped and bent in two from laughter despite the continual pain from the thorns. When she straightened, her smile was feral, and her gaze channelled Orhêthurin’s rage. “Make me, law boy!”
Exploding into motion, she slid in along the outthrust spear to seize its haft, twisting around; she used the spear for leverage. The leap in strength didn’t surprise her, but despite its resistance, it was quickly off-balance, and its tipping weight took it straight into a knee strike that buckled its shield. Staggered by the blow, it fell back towards the wall, but the damage didn’t stop it from grabbing at her follow-up kick. Even as she braced herself to pull away a Power rippled across her skin and she slipped free from its grasp.
Amdirlain eventually returned to her grassed area, a living but blood-soaked mess, and considered what she’d earned from fighting. With the improved stats of the latest tier, the effectiveness of their coordination had spiked. Fighting them was a challenge that it seemed her skills approved of, and she almost scolded herself for breaking off the fight. Their opposition wasn’t enough to force her to retreat; instead, it had been the keys niggling at her mind.
[Combat Summary:
Maze Guardian - Tier 1 x 258
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Maze Guardian - Tier 2 x 514
Maze Guardian - Tier 3 x 1,026
Maze Guardian - Tier 4 x 2,050
Maze Guardian - Tier 5 x 2,050
Maze Guardian - Tier 6 x 312
Total Experience gained:
Fallen: +32,595,000
Fallen Level Up! x2
Scion: +32,595,000
Scion Level Up! x2
Sora Master: +32,595,000
Sora Master Level Up! x2
Psion: +32,595,000
Psion Level Up! x2
Warrior Monk: +32,595,000
Warrior Monk Level Up! x2
Death Strike [M] (60->61)
Greater Teleport [M] (44->45)
Ki Movement [M] (42->43)
Protean [M] (53->54)
Tremor Sense [J] (15->18)
Free Movement [J] (20->24)
Metacreativity [Ad] (1->3)
Psychometabolism [Ad] (8->9)
Silent Storm [S] (110->111)
Telekinesis [M] (8->9)]
At least all the healing is giving Protean a workout, even if it won’t let me shift shape.
The three keys were where she’d left them, along with the dress and the spear she’d placed inside her hidey-hole. As tempting as it was to keep one key, she picked them up and headed for the gathering spot she’d found.
It was a half-day winding through the maze to the chamber where she’d encountered the auras. As before, there were marks on the earth, and the movement of the auras showed them in groups playing games. However, shortly after entering the chamber, one looked towards the entry and jumped up excitedly. When others spun in response, Amdirlain caught images through the mental static, and the three keys she held floated in their view without visible support.
Not wanting to alarm them further but also not willing to risk the keys disappearing, Amdirlain slowly skirted their group and put the keys in the entry of this chamber’s hidey-hole. Stepping back, she held her breath, hoping they wouldn’t disappear. One aura approached and tentatively touched a key, and excitement burned away its concern. They quickly spun away to press it into the closest figure’s hand. The one that had given it to turned it over thoughtfully before they motioned to the rest.
When sadness showed in some auras, Amdirlain desperately tried to send them a promise of more and saw the figure with the key stiffen when a notification appeared to her.
[Advanced Telepathy [M] (1->2)]
It made some gestures to the others and waved the key around; whatever it said charged their auras with hope.
“Now, I’ll need to live up to my promise to get them more keys.”
The child-like wonder in their auras invoked a memory that hit her mid-step. The memory that enfolded her was another of Orhêthurin’s. It seemed calmer, but the pain immediately itched under her skin. From where she stood the crystal walls of the new palace stretched out behind her nearly a kilometre to either side, however her focus wasn’t on the building but the grove. The slow-growing trees before her were barely taller than herself; spaced out with a dozen metres between them, they’d given each plant plenty of space to grow. Hundred of them stretched out towards the palace walls, a veritable forest once they reached full height.
Like the trees, the palace itself allowed plenty of space. True Song crystal from the foundation to its spires, its halls ran for kilometres from the front doors to the back. Although it was the new palace, it was already eight centuries old. It was so odd to remember when the two centuries the spikes had taken her father to craft seemed endless; now, close to a millennium was nothing.
“I can nearly see your bottom.”
The young girl’s voice was a clear soprano whose beauty matched the innocence of her Song. Despite the chiming of the palace’s crystal, her Song had given her stealthy approach away. Orhêthurin had heard her getting closer and wrapped the vine’s music in ‘white noise’ to muffle them completely.
“The ‘nearly’ part of that statement is the important bit, don’t you think?” asked Orhêthurin, not taking her eyes from the breaking dawn.
Coming to where Orhêthurin stood at the railing, the girl was almost at her elbow when she spoke again. “You’re not a servant, are you?”
“What makes you say that?”
The girl waved a hand up and down, gesturing to the gossamer outfit that Orhêthurin had worn on this visit; only a few meagre strips of cloth strategically positioned beneath it hid her from complete exposure. “Even if the colours are right, you’re an Anar, and I’ve never seen a servant wearing a uniform like that.”
Orhêthurin turned to take in the young girl properly. Already having noted Vanya and the Prince consort’s songs' influence on the girl, the wavey dark blue of her hair wasn’t a surprise. She hadn’t fashioned it as her mother was fond of; it simply hung loosely down her back, reaching nearly to her thighs. The turned-up snub nose and cheeky smile weren’t something she’d gained from Vanya. She wore a dark green dress that came to mid-shin that showed a patch of dirt down one side and shoes she’d scuffed across the toes. Her Song indicated she was twelve years old and didn’t even reach Orhêthurin’s ribs.
“Your mother is the Queen?”
“I’m Morivanesse, technically Princess Morivanesse, but there isn’t anyone but us here, so please don’t use it. I won’t complain if you call me Mori,” offered Mori, her tone brightening in extending the offer.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mori,” replied Orhêthurin. “I’m Orhêthurin. If you don’t enjoy using your title, you’ve very different from your mother.”
Mori bobbed her head in an abbreviated curtsey and gave her a beaming smile. “I’ve never understood her insistence on using it. She’s elected, and what is she, the fiftieth Queen? What was that music that was out here?”
“Is that what brought you?” asked Orhêthurin, avoiding the political question, she’d have preferred if they kept the conductor’s council.
“My room is two levels up; my parents assigned me this wing. I prefer reverie with my window open, but waking to that Song wasn’t the best,” answered Mori. Her expression turned glum. “You’re not intending to answer, are you?”
“What makes you say that?”
Mori held up three fingers and folded them down as she spoke. “Adults do three things when they want to ignore my questions: change the subject, pretend I didn’t speak, or tell me to await my awakening.”
“How are you out here without a Knight escorting you, Princess?”
“Nice to know you’re persisting with option one, but it's not nice that you backtracked to my title,” sighed Mori.
“You did the same thing to me by changing the subject,” observed Orhêthurin.
The smug smile on Mori’s lips tickled at Orhêthurin’s humour. “Technically, I didn’t change the subject; rather, I commented on your change of the subject.”
Gesturing at the markings close to Mori’s eye level, Orhêthurin kept her expression calm despite the bitterness of them digging at her. “My markings are unpleasant constructs of True Song; I masked them when I heard your approach.”
“Do they hurt you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’ll assume you’re just delaying answering my question,” Mori declared, and her gaze firmed.
“Is that a demand?”
The huff Mori gave seemed to come from the soles of her feet. “Like a demand from me would work. You’re silencing the markings’ Song, but not your Song. I’m not sure anyone could silence your Song, so do I look stupid?”
“No, you don’t. Yes, the brands hurt, some things turn their presence into agony, but it is what it is,” explained Orhêthurin and caught Mori blanch. “Are you going to answer my question now?”
“Thank you for answering first. I wanted to know because the Song sounded awful, and I couldn’t imagine how they wouldn’t hurt you,” replied Mori, her voice soft with concern. “Why don’t you get rid of them?”
“I made some mistakes; they’ve got their roots in deep.”
“Can’t someone help you?”
“Perhaps the Titan, but I’m not even sure if he could,” Orhêthurin said.
“But he created the Song. Why wouldn’t he be able to remove them?”
The thought of her father dealing with the Song almost made her laugh. “The Titan didn’t create the Song, his songbird did that, and she isn’t an option.”
“Great-grandfather told me he met the first Singer, but he thinks she took the memory from him,” stated Mori, directing her attention to the dawn sky. “He remembers feeling her strength, but there are no details left even in his Soul. A scholar convinced him to let them try, but there was just a faint hint of a woman’s voice and a sense of loss.”
“Maybe it’s safer that way,” offered Orhêthurin, and kept the hurt caused by her former husband’s request for forgetfulness from her Song.
“Are you in my mother’s service?”
Orhêthurin tapped her hands against the railing, listening to the Song in the morning air as she considered how to answer. “I don’t serve royalty.”
Mori tilted her head up at her. “If you don’t serve royalty, why are you lingering in the Palace? Shouldn’t you be getting home? The party ended hours ago.”
“No, I don’t have a home anymore. I just go where the wind blows me.”
“Everyone has a home to go to,” refuted Mori, with the absolute confidence of youth.
“Not everyone,” refuted Orhêthurin and gave Mori a bump with her hip. “I lost the right to the land and never got around to building another.”
“How can you lose the right to land?”
“It was on a titled estate; the land went with the title.”
“You’re her, aren’t you?”
“Her who?”
“The bearer of the Marks of Royal Shame,” blurted Mori. “No one would describe them to me, but I’ve seen nothing like your vines. So you said you don’t serve royalty, but I thought you were my mother’s Assassin?”
“Never!” snapped Orhêthurin and worked to still the rage that burned within her chest. “What in the world makes you believe that?”
“Just some things I overheard, they made it sound like you’ve killed at mother’s command,” Mori explained, her tone and posture suddenly careful.
“I’ve killed monsters and vile things, but I’ve never taken payment for it,” replied Orhêthurin.
“But you didn’t argue about having killed at mother’s command,” observed Mori, moving away to sit on a nearby bench.
“She and her late husband ordered me to do something once; they didn’t appreciate how it turned out. Then again, they didn’t want to get their own hands dirtier, so they’ve no right to complain,” responded Orhêthurin, her edged smile making Mori’s eyes widen. “Since then I’ve not done a thing she wanted me to do, and I know I’ve done lots she’d certainly preferred I hadn’t.”
“If you’re not my mother’s assassin, why do they make you sound like one?”
“I killed the King,” Orhêthurin replied.
The offhand tone had Mori blinking, and she suddenly seemed uncertain about being on the balcony. “Why?”
“Several reasons,” Orhêthurin replied, her reasonable tone easing Mori’s concern.
“What was on your mind when you killed him?”
“How old are you?”
“Nearly fifteen,” replied Mori casually.
“Liar,” murmured Orhêthurin, amused at the merest ripple that had been in Mori’s Song at her exaggeration.
“You should know how old I am; unless you’re incompetent in True Song,” teased Mori. “Why did you ask?”
“To see how you’d answer,” replied Orhêthurin. “They’ve put you in a separate wing at twelve?”
Mori folded her arms, and despite her disadvantage in height, gave Orhêthurin a challenging glare. “You need to answer my question first.”
“I wanted to stop him from unleashing more monsters on the innocent; I guess it makes me more a hypocrite than an assassin. Though I never hid from others when the Song’s balance needed monsters sung into existence,” replied Orhêthurin, and beckoned Mori to spill.
“I’m not on my own, the Andúnë and Itil are about,” explained Mori. “Plus, there are my teachers, but they’re normally only around during the day. Also, it was when I was ten they shifted me. I kept asking mother awkward questions about sex until she decided I could have rooms of my own. What was all that noise last night, mother? Why did your Song get so erratic? It took a while, but I won out.”
Orhêthurin's lips pursed as she held in her amusement, and she quickly continued. “And the escorts that you gave the slip?”
“Are you certain I gave them the slip?”
“I can hear a few songs two stories up that are growing alarmed,” offered Orhêthurin.
“Oh, those escorts. I’ve got a talent for sneaking around,” Mori replied airily.
Orhêthurin pointed at the scuffed toes on her shoes. “You climbed out the window, didn’t you?”
“They set the wards to keep things from coming in the window, not from going out.”
Freed from the memory, Amdirlain paused, only able to wonder why the child felt so familiar. A glance back at the auras starting new games had her heading off to hunt again, hoping the next trial would provide a better opportunity.
Ebusuku’s PoV - Laurelin
Our little rascal smiles up at Farhad and then tries to spit her food onto the tray, though it mostly dribbles down the front of her clothes. She’s been growing faster again until, at only four months, she was nearly the size of a one-year-old Elf; we’ve no way to judge what’s normal for her. The intelligence in her gaze is clear as she returns to smiling the moment Farhad has her face clean.
“Yuck.”
“You liked it yesterday.”
Pushing the bowl away, she waves at him with both hands. “Yuck.”
“What do you want then?” asks Farhad, setting the bowl of stewed apple aside before she can tip it over.
Gail claps her hands excitedly as she draws her breath to yell. “Dragon!”
Farhad snorts and lightly taps her nose. “You can’t eat a Dragon; they’d eat you.”
Gail's open-mouthed giggle shows off her tiny white teeth, and she chimes enthusiastically. “Father silly! Sarah won’t eat me.”
Farhad taps the spoon against the bowl’s edge and tries to fix her a stern look, only for it to be spoiled by his smile. “Well Sarah won’t eat you, but what do you want to eat?”
She has a thoughtful expression flash across her face before responding with a quick stream of beautiful music. My ability to read her mind this morning wasn’t helping with her focus on my music drowning out the rest of her thoughts.
“I don’t understand your songs,” Farhad reminds her patiently. “What name does it have?”
Elleth comes into the kitchen, giving the pair of us an amused look. “She had apples earlier, and she doesn’t seem to like the same thing twice. Also, don’t give her too much fruit; it’ll give her the runs.”
Farhad nods and sets the bowl on the table, away from pushing hands. “Suggestion then?”
“Sparkles,” Gail says, her soft palate adding a cute lisping sound.
“You can’t eat sparkles,” laughs Farhad
Gail wiggles in her chair and gives little giggles. Leaning forward, she pretends to gobble on a beam of sunlight that spills across her tray from the kitchen window. Her focus seems to shift away from my song, but she turns her face to give me a little pout; I then catch her wondering why she doesn’t have a sibling yet.
“What do you mean, Gail? Why do you think you should have a sibling?” I ask, and an energetic song sounds through her mind. This time she translates it for me, and I realise she’s listened to our sex from the length of the house away.
“I believe you might be a little young for this conversation,” I say, and crocodile tears immediately show at the corners of her eyes.
“Faker.”
Covering her ears, she burbles away with more music before unleashing another pout. Laughing at her antics, Elleth takes the stewed apples away and digs through the larger cold cabinet we’d added to hold food for three.
Before Elleth finds something suitable, Gail waves her hands in the air, accompanying the motions with a noise like a breeze through rustling leaves.
“You want to eat light like a tree?” asks Farhad, only to get an open palm planted on his nose by a nodding miss.
“No, little one, the bracelet lets you switch your hair colours and gender as you want, but that’s it for now,” I remind her. A quick skipping of mental pictures and she changes hair colour to bright green before it shifts to Elleth’s solid red, spinning through a rainbow, eventually settling on my black. She let out more wordless music, and her skin changed to Farhad’s olive. The alterations don’t stop there when her golden gaze fades, showing clear blue, but then returns in full force.
When she tries to squirm beneath the tray, Farhad frees her and seats her on his lap instead. Giving him a coy smile, she clasps his fingers before she turns to rest her ear against his chest. Her ongoing fascination for heartbeats earns her an amused chuckle from Farhad that gains him a shush.
“Yes, can’t you tell she’s trying to listen?” asks Elleth, and a little fire Mana sets some stewed vegetables to warm.
I’m just about to tease Farhad myself when the scroll of golden letters appears in my mind.
[A peace accord among the survivors of the Pantheons has settled the Gods’ War in Vehtë.
Fifty-seven survivors have returned to their domains.
The war has utterly destroyed the Greek and Egyptian Pantheons and decimated the others.
Your High Priestess Aleena has become a Goddess, her Mantle’s aspects are Magic, Females, and Wealth.
Your Hound Archon Mirage, now known as Leira, has become a Goddess, her Mantle’s aspects are Blacksmiths, Artificers, and Crafters.]
“Amdirlain, how many powers will you end up bringing about?” I mutter, and with the disappearance of the scroll, I look back at Farhad. “Any word on Livia?”
“Master Cyrus said she picked the hardest mountain, and she’s not yet reached the peak,” Farhad replies, and Gail pats his shoulder as if trying to comfort him.
“The Gods’ War is over; I hope what’s left of the kingdoms can declare peace quickly.”
Farhad nods and rubs gentle circles on Gail’s back. “Any news about Isa?”
“She still hasn’t worked her way up to songs dealing with souls yet,” I reply, and don’t go into details about Erwarth’s combat reports, but Gail’s eyes still bug out. “You certainly hear too much, Gail.”
“Boom!” declares Gail happily and turns her attention to the bowl of mashed tubers Elleth set on the table. “Not yuck.”
Farhad glances back from the bowl at her excitement. “Boom?”
“Auntie Erwarth, made skanks go boom!”
“Where did you learn that word? And how did you know what Erwarth’s been up to?” asks Farhad.
"Mummy's song," replies Gail softly, blinking at him slowly in an act of confused innocence.