Smiling still, she looks back at the cube and takes a breath before activating it, shielding her eyes as blinding white light bursts out from it to transform their surroundings to the trapped memory.

As the light fades, freezing cold starts in, biting at their exposed skin while wind whips at their hair and clothes. It's the dead of night, and the scent of smoke is faintly mixed in with the fresh chill of snow. Before them is a bleeding and bruised Asaraanda, limping through the snow with her staff as a walking stick. She moves stubbornly even though the only noise is the shrieking wind and her own quiet chattering teeth.

The present Asa cocks her head and watches herself come upon an abandoned fireplace, the way she slumps on discovering it's stone cold and whoever lit it long gone.

"I never asked how the escape from Haven was for all of you."