Half-elf. [He pointed at his own ear.] And can you really be sure? If this is merely another timeline of yours? My magic works here, and my pantheon is most certainly not here. Never was. Well -- aside from you, and only right now. And even then you are not precisely her.

[He could see more the more her watched her, in the curve of her face. The way her eyes flashed. When Takara had still been on speaking terms, on dreaming terms with a younger Ishaq. She had always been so beautiful to him, even when she was incomprehensible and beyond human form. Even when she was further away from him.]

I see it more like a mirror placed in front of another mirror. Maybe every reflection is just a step further away from its sourced world. Maybe yours is ten, twelve, fifteen reflections away from mine. Maybe that is why I have known your name, and you are still halfway steeped in death. Even that is... Familiar.