Blinding light, that was all she could see. Not the brilliant orange of the flames she had wreathed herself in, nor the gentle yet overwhelming glow of the lights of Brightmoon's halls... no, this was the light of the void, vast and empty, illuminating everything within it (which is to say, nothing.) Perhaps it was not the light that blinded her, then. Perhaps she was not blinded at all.

Shadow Weaver snorted, haughty. [i]This[/i] was the afterlife? A formless void? Yet another reason to discredit the mad ravings of the theology department at Mystacor, she supposed.

"Light Spinner?"

Shadow Weaver wheeled around instinctively, though it had been many years since she had used the name. Standing just an arm's reach from her, though she had not been just moments before, was an angel, resplendent in that same light that filled the place. It took a moment for the recognition to set in.

"Angella?" Shadow Weaver frowned. "I thought you were dead? Ah, but I suppose that isn't so important here."

The former queen smiled, her eyes cold. "You always were fast to put things together, Light," she said. "Micah told me a lot about how he used to look up to you for your brilliance, your cunning, your wit."

"If he truly admired those things," Shadow Weaver said, her gaze unfaltering even in the face of Angella's radiance, "then he would have trusted me and listened when it truly mattered."

Angella's lips pursed, a taught, thin line of regal dissatisfaction. "I did not travel here just for you to complain about my husband's wisdom," she said, regarding Shadow Weaver with a careful, calculating look. "I came because I was curious to see if you had changed. It is clear to me that you have not."

Shadow Weaver tilted her head, curiously. "I have changed many times in my life, Angella," she said. "More so than most people, even. I will admit that I strayed, somewhat, from the path of good, but I'd like to think I found my way back."

"You never change, Light," Angella said, sadly. "You have always thought that you know best, and that others ought to sacrifice themselves for the power that only [i]you[/i] could wield properly. You take your own brilliance for granted. I had thought that, perhaps, you had finally realised that in your last moments; I see now that I was wrong.

“You never change. You died exactly as you lived.”

“I did—” Shadow Weaver paused, weighing her words carefully “—what had to be done, for the good of the universe—”

Angella shook her head. “You didn’t do it for the universe. You talk the talk of selfless sacrifice, but never once have you truly [i]meant[/i] it. Even in death you tried only to cement your own legacy as a hero.” She took a deep breath, gazing once more into Shadow Weaver’s eyes—and for the first time Shadow Weaver felt that perhaps someone was seeing her for who she truly was, and the thought disgusted her. “This was a waste of time, and [i]here[/i] that really says something.”

The radiant angel before her started to fade, even as Shadow Weaver’s jaw clenched in anger, leaving the shadows alone in the light.