Stavanger Bay we gather in shadow and ash

Though it pained the black-banded Cairn to look upon the ruin the fire had wrought upon his wife’s delicate framework, he would never be able to see her as anything but beautiful. In her golden eyes — eyes that warmed and softened for him — he read strength and determination, support and love unlike anything he had ever known. “It is your blessing I need,” he beseeched her, quietly enough that the Sea would have no cause for jealousy. “Yours first and foremost — and Hers.” Drawing breath, “I saw Deirdre leap from the cliffs of Donnelaith — I tried to follow her and was pulled under. I nearly drowned.” Doe would surely understand how virulent the Wickedness had been to exact such payment from one of her divine children. “When I resurfaced, Deirdre was gone — and when I tried to search for her, lightning blinded me. She does not want me to find Skellige’s Chosen One.” In desperation, in grief, he pressed the crown of his head to Doe’s throat and released a shuddering sigh. “Can you calm Her?” he asked, knowing it was not out of Doe’s reach by any stretch of the imagination. “We must hold the bay.”