goodbye, yellow brick road

"The demon killed anyone who went near the Spire." Now Amalia's mind is racing, possibilities both likely and strange run through her brain in a breakneck pace. "When Frey showed me... it looked alive, at the beginning. Intelligent. Almost - almost - human." Not in shape, but in intelligence, in the light of its eyes and the thought behind its face. Pacing a little across the bridge, the baker continues to babble on, verbosity given birth by curiosity and the rush of maybe, maybe, understanding. "The only ones who survived it were you - well." A rueful, apologetic smile is thrown to the undead king. "I don't remember... could it have infected the others? Remi seems fine though, and I haven't seen Roana since last season." Had there been others? She cannot remember - it was a collection of outlanders, and she had more pressing crises to attend. Pausing in her pacing, the baker draws out another stale roll, passing it anxiously between her hands. "What if the demon wasn't protecting the spire? What if it was protecting us - trying to keep the sickness contained?" Amalia i've been watching your kindness keep a lonely company - look at the fire and think of me