Hazel moves to take a step forward but the face that emerges is not her own. The firelight seems to catch on the mist as it pulls away from the Autumn Spirit's body but rather than an orange glow the light is offwhite and shimmering with the same light Loki's own illusions always seem to carry.

Who was it that taught him the finesse of those magics growing up? The illusion is not as strong as hers once were--there is a limit to the power he dead can wield even in this place but sure as the last time Loki saw her does Frigga now stand before him in her flowing dress and done up hair with sharp yet compassionate eyes that once watched over the whole of Asgard and her sons in particular. Where other spirits might be mere shapes and forms the standout supreme sorceress of Asgard holds herself to a higher standard than that, even in death.

Her illusions were always the only ones a match for Loki's, after all.

"If you have to ask me then you know the answer. Or is it that you want someone else to say it so that you can keep lying to yourself?" Her son who feels as though he's so much closer to her than he should be. He should not be this close to Death. No matter how hard he seems to try and chase it. It and his own self destruction for the self loathing inside his heart she never could heal. "It is gratifying to hear you call me Mother again."

Not a balm to the soul she had before she perished, but one that fills her with compassion now.