This is not Idaia's closet.
It's something weird.
That could be either a really good thing or a really bad thing.
She probably wasn't going to succeed at what she needed to succeed at anyway; worth the gamble.
She steps inside.
"He got a nasty head wound protecting me and everyone said he'd live but he--it took him longer to wake up than it took me to get myself killed, and that was the last I ever saw of him, with his skull dented and there was so much blood--"
Nod, nod. "If you want we could go through the memory and attenuate the affect like with the ice, but there are reasons not to want to do that."
"Yeah, I--It's not--making me less able to do things, like the phobia was, and I don't--I don't want to not have a negative reaction to my husband with an injury that would have killed a human."
Nod. "There's more direct nightmare-related interventions but I don't have much practice with them and you probably shouldn't risk tampering too much with your dreams."
"First two times she assumed something had gone horribly wrong with the air conditioning and hauled me bodily out of the room."
"Daphne's reaction when I told her the truth was that she had better stick by me because I was clearly a fantasy novel protagonist and she'd rather have the role of 'sidekick' than 'chick who shows up in the first chapter and is never seen again.'"
"She is that. If we ever have to deal with a zombie apocalypse I'll be very glad to have her on my side."
"I scrolled the disrupt undead spell but only because it's an introduction to the positive energy used in healing magic..."
"Zombies don't actually exist," Idaia clarifies. "They're a popular fictional thing to plan for having to deal with, though."
"The paths are warded, but if you wander off them and something eats you something is slightly more likely to be a ghoul than anything else and much more likely to be a ghoul than any other form of undead."