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Eight - Good, it will give me some action.
Our quest to plumb the depths of our consciousness using drugs continues.
Oh, hello again.
Music - Mélancolie
Another puzzle battle. Not hard exactly, but kind of tedious.
These little black balls automatically take damage every turn.
But these lights also automatically heal them, but only as long as the Negations are in their long but straight-line range.
So we need to get the black dots out of range of any of the lights through a combination of Repulsion and physically blocking them with our body, long enough for them to lose all their energy. One thing to watch out for though is that Trauma might heal the Negations, but it damages us.
I like what this encounter says about the way traumatic memories are kept alive, but it could have done with a few less Negations to delete, I think.
Poof! One down, many to go.
As the dots disappear, they warp over to this inaccessible square.
At first it's known only as "Shadow".
Anna-Liisa's Shadow: Were you really born, Haþuwīgą? Were you really born one day? What do we owe our parents? What do we do, us parents, for our children, and what should we do? Did we just spread the Holy on top of the dirt?
A couple more Negations dealt with, and the Shadow gets bigger.
A couple after that and it takes on a vaguely humanoid shape.
Then a forcefield appears around it. Kay. Also the Maid appears again.
Maid's Shadow: One needs only so little, at times, to exist. The love of a mother, even from afar, would suffice to give birth. You know that, and yet, you refuse to accept it. Let the light get in, at last, in this tomb. Let the light get in, and listen to its words.
We can't interact with either thing because of the obstacles, but they are named when we hover over them.
Once the last Negation is finally deleted, the Traumas turn orange,
then fly at us,
then fly over to the child.
This is where things get different depending on the drug dose we took. With the full dose we would be able to 100% this encounter and hear all of it. But since we are not a Volva and could only take the half dose, we can only last so long against the damage here.
That's, uh. Certainly a damage number. The encounter is basically scripted at this point though, as we absorb the attack completely each turn until we've listened as long as the dose allows.
The Child has a weird range, but being out of it doesn't seem to help.
We start absorbing less and less of Blame's damage as the turns go on.
Summoned Frida to see if she will sacrifice herself again for us, but alas, Blame only targets Haþuwīgą directly.
Childhood's end.
Boat-load of XP though!
-the same uniform color, the same smell of dust.
It's the gray, Dad. It's the gray of dawn.
That is what you left me. Letters on my doorstep. Nights without sand. Children lost in the shadow of others. That is what is left to me. What will I do with that? Where shall I drag my feet, like a sick little girl? Nothing awaits me here any longer; nothing awaits me outside, in this village to which I am invisible, in this village that has ceased to protect me from anything.
I am going to leave. I am going to wander and get lost, far away from here, I am going to flee and never come back, and never come back for centuries on end, until I can be strong, until I can be old, until I can finally bear their smile.
I am going to leave.
I am going to leave.
Good, this place sucks anyway.
Maybe I would have preferred not to sleep...
Did you dream?
Yes. It was... gloomy. All I can remember, is a permanent feeling of oppression. I think I saw my father; he said something about a door... But I forgot all of it.
The hallucinogen trip the day of a traumatic loss didn't work? Color me shocked.
(She looks saddened) Do you feel a little more free though?
To be honest, the mere sight of the houses outside makes me sick...
(She sighs) I don't know what to advise you anymore.
It won't be necessary. I have already decided.
I am leaving. Anywhere, as long as it is far away from here. Probably, the capital.
(She looks as if she is thinking for a whole)... It may be the best thing to do indeed. It will be hard. I think you should talk to your tutor first.
I will make sure to say good bye to the old Okhr before I leave.
Well then. Now you can just leave the old Inkeri alone, and go prepare your departure. Be courageous. It is the last time you will see your house. Your father's ashes have been brought to his bedroom. Veikko took care of it all last night. As for the rest... I would recommend you follow the river down South, the western path is covered in snow this morning. I wish you safe travels. And I hope to see you again someday... With a smile.
Thank you for everything, Volva Inkeri.
Take care of yourself.
A new quest!
It is a source of immense sadness to me that the two sisters we also trained with don't have any new dialogue now, only Okhr. Very much a ball drop there.
I came to say goodbye. I am leaving the village.
Weaver Okhr: (The old woman stares at you intensely) Hmm... I suppose it was to be expected. There weren't really any other exit possible yet. Where will you go?
Wherever, as long as it is far away from here. To the capital, probably.
Good, it will give me some action. And I am not necessarily planning on traveling alone.
Weaver Okhr: ...I think you're trying to escape, Haþuwīgą. I don't like this. There is nothing good in fleeing. You, out of all people, know better... (She mumbles.)
For?
Weaver Okhr: ...Nevermind. (She has a sad smile.) Nothing I'll tell you will change your mind. Your mother was the same.
That's possible. Tell me about her.
Weaver Okhr: I am not going to tell you about her now, it would be inappropriate... Besides, I am tired. Wait for me outside... I am going to fetch a few things for you.
The sequel was going to have a lot about Haþuwīgą's mother, but alas, now it will never be. 
Very well...
This is very mysterious. Thank you for everything, Mrs. Okhr... I will be back, one day, I think. When I feel better and when time have passed. (The old woman stares at you with sad, piercing eyes.) Don't make the same mistake as your mother. She didn't leave anything to her daughter.
Narration: (With these harsh and strange words, the old hunched woman returns to her house. The door closes, squeaking; leaving you alone with your parcel, your feet planted in the snow, and a strange and indefinite sadness.)
One last thing before getting the heck out.
But when we get to our house's door...
We are transported somewhere else.
Shadow of Descent: Inside your house, it's smaller. It's warmer. How did you get here? If there are footsteps in the snow, you see none of them. It's strange, don't you think? Walking all this way, making all these efforts, just to come back behind your own house, your own house made of straw. All this way to be a prisoner in your own yard. Beware, beware, Haþuwīgą. Don't step just anywhere. Be careful, be careful Haþuwīgą. It is dangerous. It is not for little girls, ho no. It isn't. Not for little girls. Be careful, Haþuwīgą. It's so steep.
At least we can leave via the bottom of the screen, taking us back to... the front of our house.
Entrance Shadow: You were waiting for me? Well, ladies, as I am invited in my own abode, I am coming inside. Allow me, again, to smell the sweet smell of the dead wood in the hearth. Allow me, maybe for the last time, to gently stroke the stones my father has brought, with his hard and calloused hands, day after day, year after year. Allow me to indulge myself in this sweet moment one last time. Confide, confide. Push the door of your own house. Only you can say what's still inside.
Hmm. I don't remember our house looking like this before. Inkeri!! 