Spirit (NPC)/dialogue

Spirit: The flesh has returned to me again. Player: Who are you? Spirit: I promised I would never leave his side. Then they froze me and I could no longer keep up. Player: Umm... that doesn't really answer the question. Who are you? Spirit: Did you come to give me your flesh? Player: No, I just want to know who you are. Spirit: They called me something. It may have been Lamel. Or Urgand. Player: You don't even remember your name? Spirit: My name is an importance of the past and no longer a burden I must carry with me. Player: How long have you been here? Spirit: Since shortly before red and blue were rudely interrupted by green. Player: Hmm. I see. Spirit: Can Lemal or Dnagru share more of his knowledge with you, flesh dancer? Player: When were red and blue interrupted? Spirit: At some point in the afternoon. Before the arrows but after the demons. Player: Eh... I mean... at what point in time? Spirit: It was the third in a row, around the nights of 4,000 glowing eyes. It had already been born from pain, but I was late. Player: Oh, when you put it that way... Spirit: Was that the end of your dance?

Player: What are you doing here? Spirit: The sword had sought its new home and my time in flesh was over. Demons laughed and angels wept. I froze but my lord moved, and I was left in the presence of pain. Player: I take it you died? Spirit: Haha. Your dance entertains Gnameall. Player: Is that a yes? Spirit: As truly as the western lands fell. But I have not strayed from his red path. No, I have been careful. Player: Whose path? Spirit: The red Rokazma, of course. No, Ludgem has not followed the path of men. Mokazra was a beacon of war as well as a searching light. Oh, how he searched. The light got weaker so Lamreg lit a candle of his own. But Tighux put his fist down and demons as well as angels flew! Player: What did he search for? Spirit: Shh! It's a secret! So secret that not even the candles knew. But they would look, and they would guess, and red faded to darkness and extinguished the candles of failure. But the red beacon was not alone in its flicker. No, all lights mimicked the one that came before. They took turns being the glowing eye, and now the eye was blue. But that's when Hugixt took it away! Player: Who did what now? Spirit: One said right, one said left. The paths crossed, and there was middle. The struggle shone with the light of living eyes! But they grew bleak, withered, and died. Player: Who died? Spirit: Many of us. But we had to. We were insignificant in their reflections - nothing but a second of necessary suffering for their benefit. Leaves will fall from the trees, but the mountains remain. But then he awoke and disrupted it all! Player: Who woke up? Spirit: Green! The red path had fallen in the shadow of blue wings, but all knew what had to be done! The crossroads would be intertwined into one and the struggle would cease! Player: And that's when green woke up? Spirit: Yes! It mixed and all was white. The crossroad chose no path, it became a wall. The bright light blinds whoever comes too close, and everyone crashes into the wall, unable to get away! And only because of green... only because it would not see a leaf be pulled from the tree, but instead fall to the ground and slowly rot. It did nothing good for anyone involved. The light must continue to flow, but the bearer of the prism is nowhere to be seen, not with the start of the tail taken away. If only it had let us end it the only true way... Now dance, you disguised in the flesh of past times. Garel must rest.