Except Annie once spent days drugging herself so that she could see her sister die over and over again - such was the level of her desperation to simply spend time with Ellie again - and here she is, urging herself out of a far more pleasant (at that point) fantasy in which she can carouse and share stories with her long-dead sister. It’d be the logical response of almost anyone - once you realize you’re in a perilous dream, you almost always want out. Remarkably, Annie tries to wake herself up (after an encounter with some local grubs who are begging not to be eaten). Except Annia is now self-aware that this isn’t real, that she’s inside her own head: a rather dangerous, or at least alarming, place to be. We’re back in Owen’s and Annie’s “confrontation phase” surrealist fever dreams - he’s still the mafioso’s son with a heart (and some teeth) of gold, and she’s a half-breed elf on a quest to bring the Princess Ellia to the Lake of the Clouds to heal the royal elf’s fatal ailments. But can I just push you a wee bit to think that maybe, just maybe, this kind of TV, that doesn’t take itself so damn seriously, is kinda … fun? None of us signed up for Transfiguration. I know you can’t see straight right now because all you can think about is the fact that Owen turns into a goddamn hawk at the end of this episode and essentially flies into Mordor to find Annie where he gets zapped by a little bolt from Greta Mantleray/Queen Gertruth’s hands like a lite version of the Emperor electrocuting Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi.
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