"Don't cry, little one," Élodie had whispered, her breath shallow. "I am not scared. But I do not want to rot in this hole. Take my legs. Take my eyes. You wanted to see the world, right? Go see it for me."

Echo accepted the gift. It burrowed in, knitting the fatal wounds and taking the helm. But Echo found the human form... limiting. It needed better vision to protect the small, fragile vessel, so it grew eyes on the brow. It needed a voice to apologize to people, so it grew a mouth on the throat.

Now, they wander. Echo is constantly trying to "pass" as human. It wears high-collared cloaks to hide the throat-mouth and hoods to hide the forehead eyes, but the glowing cyan veins always give them away. Echo just wants to live quietly, perhaps tend a garden, but the guards always raise their spears at the sight of the red-haired woman with the eyes on her forehead.