The Chapel was open and right now, Makun, Marifa, Konrad and the rest of the crowd were walking towards it.
By now, after listening to her words, Makun had an idea of what was happening. Without the Golden Mask, none of the people present here would enter Ashenvale. He was meant to supervise the transit, a gatekeeper in the truest sense, holding authority over the device that bridged this world and the one beyond.
And curious about how transportation happened, Makun pestered Marifa, till she finally relented.
She spoke with the exasperation of someone explaining the obvious to a child, her words clipped while she frequently sighed, clearly tired of having this pest near her and as always her left eye was twitching with barely contained irritation. But she spoke.
"It is different from normal frequency changes." She said, not looking at him. "Different from what you are used to."
"How so?"
