"I thought it was nice," Jojo murmurs.

"I don't think I've heard this one."

Deekin starts singing - Toril's version of surface Elvish, not that it makes a difference to Tongues. His usually shrill voice softens into a mellow tenor, as it usually does when he sings. He accompanies himself on a lap-harp.

The song is sad. It's about love - it's about loss - it's about not knowing what you've lost until it's gone. About seeking something you didn't know you already had, and seeing it for the first time as it leaves you.

The last few notes trail off, dying too quickly in the falling snow.

"The story I was told is that Tamorlyn was an elven bard, a few thousand years ago, and that he supplicated himself before Hanali Celanil, elven goddess of love, asking her to show him true beauty so he could win a woman's heart. She smiled and set him three tasks - to retrieve the egg of a phoenix, the scale of a dragon dead of old age, and... I can't remember the third task, do you?" he asks Deekin.

"Eh. Similar impossible thing."

"Yes, well, anyway, it took him centuries, but he finally returned to the goddess with the impossible tasks complete. And she told him that his beloved had married another, and that they'd had children together, and they had all died of a plague, in the time he'd been gone. And in his grief, he wrote that song - and she said 'now, I have shown you beauty.'"

"Wow, that'll teach him to ask for things, I guess."

"Right? Mammalian gods. Not even once."

Jojo smiles crookedly. "Some are admittedly better than others. I can't speak to the veracity of the entire legend, but I found a scroll containing the music for that song in a millennia-old tomb and Sharwyn, my bardic companion at the time, declared it apparently authentic. And apparently ended up releasing it to the public."

"It's nice, I like it."

"As do I!"

Jojo's nose twitches abruptly. "-I think we're getting close. I see... something... off in the distance. Something glowing."

"I guess that's... considerate? Or on fire, one of those."

"Fire is also potentially worth investigating, around here."

They approach cautiously. The glow turns out to be a portal, a pool of shimmering light in the ground.

"The path ends here," Jojo says. "Goes straight into it."

Deekin hums while examining the portal. "Looks not-trapped. We going in?"

"I will have to cancel my social plans but sure!"

Jojo hops through first, followed by the others. They come out in... a place. Somewhere. Everywhere? It's a kaleidoscope of landscapes, locations, interior and exterior. For a moment it's Belmarniss' childhood home, then it melts into a high-ceilinged temple, then an icy cavern, then a sweltering jungle.

The only constant feature, other than the four of them, is a creature floating in the center of each space. Her eyes are empty white, and while her face is beautiful, her body is a fluttering mass of wings - butterfly wings, bird wings, bat wings. She turns, disturbing the currents of the air through the (monastery) (desert) (glade) (mountaintop), and stares at them blindly.

     "Angel?" she croaks to Jojo. "Why do you travel with this one?"

"Which?" he asks.

     "The invader. The self-imposed Lord of the Eighth. Mephistopheles."

"...I'm not the angel, and that's not Mephistopheles. I just have the angel's ring. And, um, she has a piece of the archdevil lodged in her heart."

"For legal reasons I have assumed his place in the cosmos against my will but I am a different person."

     "...I see... it's awfully confusing. I ask where Mephistopheles is and he is before me, but I sense your aura, your heart, and it is pure... and you, ring-wearer, I know the angel lies in the City of Lost Souls, but you wear his ring and you are so like him... well. What are your questions?"

"I need to find your sister, the Knower of Names."

     "My sister, you call her? I suppose it is not wrong..."

Suddenly, they all know where the Knower of Names is. The same way Belmarniss knows her prepared spells. She's deep in the wastes of Cania, past a terrible battlefield of the Blood War.

     "Your ring will show you the way as well, should you need to go on foot. Who next?"

"Where on this planet can I go to find a way home again?"

The Knower's brow furrows. "...you will go far, farther than you think. I see the edges of the shape of your story in this travelogue. To Waterdeep, to Thay, to Rashemen, back to Thay... to the great unformed sea beyond all things, where gods die... to the Wall... and from there, somewhere even I have not known, but that you call home."

"I distinctly saw my mom's old cave in your display here, why can't you see Golarion?"

"My realm is given shape by those within it. You see where you have been, and where your companions have been - the places that made them who they are."

Somewhat demonstratively, they're standing in the tavern where Belmarniss met Hagan.

"Huh. Waterdeep, Thay, Rashemen, Thay, great unformed sea... Wall, I was trying to avoid that... then home. O...kay." She writes this down.

     The Knower smiles. They're standing under an impressively large tree in the middle of a burning city. (Jojo winces.)

Deekin raises his hand. "Deekin next?"

     She turns to him, and they're in a modest house, decorated eclectically. "What is your question, Deekin?"

"Deekin want to know... where Deekin find Mischa Waymeet and Tynan Blake."

     "Mischa is in Heaven. Tynan lives in Neverwinter, wandering the streets of the Beggar's Nest."

Deekin hisses as if in pain, then nods. "Thank you."