It's just a little unfair. You watch with the mildest of interest as the two Marths exclaim their surprise at the other's existence, eagerly offering information to better compare and contrast.
I wish I had another me to talk to. Of course there are other summoners, but you know that they are not you. Still, the mere fact that others from your world exist here should be comforting. Well, it would be if I could actually talk to them. For whatever reason, a summoner could send one representative hero from their Askr, but never themselves. Any attempt at sending gifts or letters only yielded feathers once the hero crossed realms. There was still the possibility of asking a hero to deliver a verbal message beyond the generic greeting…
A sigh escapes your lips. You feel bad enough about the manipulative influence of Breidablik, thus by extension you. The idea of using heroes as living conduits for messages just to alleviate a little homesickness feels uncomfortably dehumanizing. Still it would be nice to have someone understand.
Unlike you, heroes could go back to their realm whenever they wanted. They had friends and family that could be summoned. You are stuck here indefinitely. Till the conflict with Embla ends, right? No wait, how about the one with Múspell? But won't there be yet another one with Loki?
Will you ever be able to go home?
The two Marths seem to have become friends. Light-hearted snippets of their conversation can be heard even as they head down the hall. Bitterly, you head to your room.