"What was Brya like?" The assembled Ghosts—Targe, Peach, and Ophiuchus—ceased their gossip. They turned to Glint, who bobbed back a half-step. "I never met her," Glint admitted. "But you know what happened to her, right?" Peach asked. Glint nodded. "She was…" Peach thought for a moment, searching for the word. "Cheerful." Glint contracted his shell in confusion. "That's a little hard to imagine." "It's true!" Peach chimed. "You saying that makes it even harder to imagine," Glint replied, but Targe and Ophiuchus bobbed in affirmation. "I mean, Eris was never cheerful," Peach continued. "But Brya could bring out a different side of her. It was impressive. I was impressed." "She used to make up rhymes with Eris," Targe added. "It was… endearing," Ophiuchus said. "Huh," Glint mused. "It sounds like she was pretty special." "She was," Targe said. They fell into a moment's silence until Peach spoke again. "What she did in the Hellmouth… it wasn't for nothing. Eris made it out." The assembled Ghosts nodded. "I think I'd do the same, if Crow was in danger," Glint said softly. "If that was the only way to keep him safe. But Crow would be very sad. Very, very sad." "Eris is 'very, very sad' too. It wasn't just losing the Light or her friends," Targe replied. "We know our Guardians better than anyone," Ophiuchus said. "We see them at their lowest moments." Targe glanced away, lost in thought. Peach hummed. "I wonder what she'd think about Eris's plan?" Her question hung in the air for a moment. Glint bobbed in consideration. "I think she'd be proud," he said, and the others agreed.