"Wait, THAT'S Eraellyn?!"
"The purple finally makes sense, you kept mentioning penance but I thought it was just backstory"
"Is that... is something watching her in the background?"
"Okay NOW I understand why you panic every time someone gets hurt"
"Is this MOVING?!"
For three years, Marianne's character had been the group's dedicated healer.
The one who kept everyone alive. The one they relied on when things went wrong.
But they never knew why she healed with such desperate intensity.
They never knew about the Voice that once possessed her.
About the purple she wore as eternal penance, the color of sacrifice, marking every spell she cast as an act of redemption.
To them, she was just "the healer."
Generic. Forgettable. Invisible.
Until that portrait dropped.
"Everyone immediately started noticing details they'd overlooked,"
Marianne told me.
"They began asking about her purple cloak, about the shadows in her eyes. For the first time in three years, Eraellyn wasn't just mechanically present in our story, she was alive."