They create a path, luminous and leading her on. Rocky, and beginning to get humid the further they go. But the sound of the water grows louder, louder, even as she traverses steep and sheer ledges until the river comes into view. Bioluminescent plants grow around, offering subtle illumination, some attended by motes the same as which guided Valdis there, and the air is heavy with humidity, with a scent closer to a forest after a thunderstorm than a mountain itself.

And as promised, floating there, by all perceptions to be just sleeping, is Fever. Cradled by the water, even as it flows, her eyes closed as if this was all just a simple diversion. Tucked away from the rest of the world.