For decades she had dreamt of this moment. The death of Strahd and her victory. Her years of struggle vindicated. But Yikkol did not expect to feel so empty or so hopeless. Now that she had achieved what she set out to, she had nothing to return to but the shambles of the life she had left behind.

Through the portals at the top of the tower, between alien worlds and more familiar ones, Yikkol saw what was once home. Long ago, the bedroom in the guild hall was hers, but now it was cluttered with unfamiliar objects. The Makers' Guild must have given the room to someone else. Her family must be elsewhere. She had to find them.

Pidlwick breaks her hopeless reverie: "What do we do now?" She smiles down at him and then at her companions. Soon they would be a distant memory.

"We should go home. Back to our families and our children—if they will take us, after our long absence. I wish I had Strahd's skull to take home. But I have the skull of my mother's murderer, and that is enough.

"I wish all of you could see my homeland. The temples laden with gold and jade. The royal rivers. The trees and the mountains and the Salt Sea. But I suppose you must return home, too.

"Your Holiness, to your Church. I am sure your world will benefit from your guidance as we have in this one. Bori, to the windswept plains of your world, where you will once again see your dinosaur companion. Asha, to your"—here she wrinkles her nose in confusion—"strange metal ship amongst the stars. And I suppose you will stay here, Zinro, and take what is left of this castle."

She holds out a hand for Pidlwick to take.

"Pidlwick, I would be honored if you would come with me and see the land that your maker—our mom—was born. The Guild will be thrilled to see you. And perhaps... Perhaps we can see my partner and my children, if they will forgive me.

"Good-bye, friends. May the Fates guide you to new victories and quiet lives."

She walks through the portal, which shimmers and then fades. It is the last the party sees of Yikkol Four-Eyes.