"Seramet?" you call out. "Where are you?"
There is no answer, so you try again: "Are you still there? I don't know what's happening. I don't know what to do."
A voice answers you this time, but it sounds as if it comes from far away. "Follow the path before you, Basileios. I will be there if you need me."
You contemplate shouting out that you need her help now, but something tells you that there will be no response this time. You're on your own, surrounded now by the dense, rich smoke which rolls across the ground of the yurt like a mist. You stand up, feeling a bit wobbly on your legs from, you presume, inhaling the smoke. You look around, and though the smoke is very thick, you believe you can see the glint of the fire at the yurt's center a little way off in one direction. You can also hear—though you wonder if your ears are deceiving you—the hollow ringing of wind chimes.