The two of them met when she was brought to this place. String held tightly in hand forging a link in the furnace of paranoia. Year after year she stayed in that room of doom & gloom never moving not more than a pace or two. She prayed one day the girl would let go so she could float up to the sun.
Despair tore her asunder, her memories scattered to the winds. The mountains that encased her within the mansion howled as the wind passed through. The last of the Therrathiel's wept for the family she knew and lost in an instant.