Six weeks have passed on Golarion since the beginning of the war with Cheliax. Five weeks have passed since the Church of Abadar declared it over. Her son and daughter have spent that whole time in the dome. She's visited them some; they see her for an hour, more days than not. She spends her days healing, alone in her head apart from the earrings, and spends her nights doing a whirlwind of spell research, logistics work, and helping Catherine rebuild Cheliax.
For her, it's been three months. It's been a little longer for Elie. He's been working around the clock on the coordinated casting ritual that they hope will seal the Worldwound up, freeing them to arrest the remaining Asmodean clerics and take the final steps towards toppling Asmodeus in Hell. She, Ione, Areelu, Seng, parts of the Bachuan portal team, and the wardstone team from Holomog have all contributed to the ritual, but Elie's been working harder than any of them. The thing he's come up with is brilliant and incredible and stunningly ambitious, a fusion of Tien and Avistani arcana, a kind of magic she's not sure anyone has ever done before. At this point, the six-hour ritual has been fully designed. Elie and Seng have spent the past several weeks training a team of two hundred casters and ritualists to perform it together, setting a grueling practice schedule in an attempt to finally end this.
On the last Fireday night before the ritual, when he's not actively teaching at just that moment, she interrupts him. "Elie."