Noctisardor Bypass Soft blue skies, helium balloons float up, away

Okay, said Wylla hesitantly. Was it Sequoia's choice to rename Praimfaya's daughter, or the girl's? Surely it had nothing to do with Mahler, who likely respected Praimfaya too much to even think of changing their names, despite how unusual they were. If Wylla had known such children in her girlhood, she would have bullied them relentlessly. Skaigona was a weird name anyway, she cautiously added, hedging a bet on Skaigona not being fond of her old name, either, or she would still be using it.

She had to swallow a sigh when Skaigona — Heda, now, it seemed — settled on small haunches. Couldn't the Sämling see that Wylla was not in the mood to entertain her now? Much less discuss the broken features of her face. Wylla openly grimaced at the question.

I traded it to a witch for immortality, she lied, peering at her toes with feigned interest in the dirt collected under her nails. It had nothing on the mud that coated Heda. She almost suggested that the kid should go take a bath, but then she would have to accompany her, and Wylla wasn't sure she could stand up without falling over from exhaustion. The witch tricked me, though, and cursed my life instead.

That bit wasn't so much a lie. Wylla suspected that Caiaphas had indeed cursed her.