Ankyra Sound drowner of hope

Svalinn descended into the sound in search of Sapphique’s missing young. His lambent brown eyes scoured the woods and swept along the coast; he called their names into the scattered clouds above, and only paused in his search once moonlight had begun to turn the blackpine into a pool of ambiguous shadow. He angled himself towards the grotto, a place of much death and despair, and he made the choice to stay in Ankyra for the night until he could search here again at first light.

His own missing daughters weighed greatly upon him, evident in the heaviness of his gait and the tired sag of his long spine. He thought of @Jorunn too, of the time they had hunted here, and he wondered how a place of so many good memories could also be a place of such horror.

tag for reference <3

in short order, the grotto buzzed with life.

some days, she was aware of her tether here.

other days, she was aware of nothing at all.

today the veil lifted just enough that caiaphas saw a golden glow cast its splendor in her halls.

she bid herself to rise, sensing the unpleasant sensation of her fabric being pulled from the walls as she went.

Speaking of horror…

Svalinn felt his fur start to stand on end, drawing him to a firmly planted stop. There was an intangible presence near him that he could not see or hear at first. He squinted into the dark before him and strained to hear anything over the incessant sound of crashing waves. For once, he wished for utter silence.

An uneasy warning rumbled in his chest, vibrating outward into a pulse that would keep lesser creatures at bay. Who’s there? he demanded. Nothing touched his senses except brinesmell and the glint of sludgy seaweed in the moonlight, but there was something else there, too. Something he wanted to back away from. Something provoking and not at all welcoming.

The feeling reminded him of something that he had long forgotten.

a pair of lambent yellow eyes sulked in the shimmering black of the cave.

she knew him, she knew it -- who, who, who --

his growl filled the cavern, sending a scurry of centipedes towards more silent climes.

bit by bit the pieces of her former self floated past and she --

i don't suppose you brought food, the siren lamented, feeling the settling of her form along the flowstone pith that had once served as altarstone.

His growling ceased immediately at the sight of those canary yellows.

In the sparest of moments, Svalinn was thrown back into his adolescent body—

He was standing in this very spot, looking into these same eyes, hearing those exact words in that voice. The Sea Witch was unmistakable.

Returned to his husk, Svalinn shook his head and the apparition was no more. Come and gone like déjà vu. He was aware of his irregular heartbeat, but that was all. The scuttling creatures, the dripping, the pounding surf: none of it reached him.

And the longer he stared at that voidspot upon the altarstone, the faster his mind worked to frantically reject its formation into his black-hooded mother. Stop it. He shut his eyes to her.

You're losing it. Get a hold of yourself.

She's dead.

stop it. his eyes, so much like her own, pressed shut.

she's dead.

i am dead. caiaphas said in the satisfied manner of a cat who had managed to come back. she tittered, eyes upon the boy who had his first baptism in the blood of his siblings. but you are not, i see.

Svalinn wanted to turn from this place, but this nightmarish atmosphere naturally dictated that he feel trapped.

His heart suddenly seemed heavy as iron. He could feel it battering against the cage of his ribs, as if trying to wedge itself free. He dared to look upon the slim shadow again, its form clear as day now: the body of trodden snowdrift, that widow's black veil, and eyes gold enough to make a raider's hand itch.

Laying eyes on Caiaphas made this moment more surreal, bringing him to the logical conclusion that he was dreaming. His fear ebbed as a strange sort of awareness crept in on him, and he wondered at the meaning and timing of these images.

I am dead... But you are not, I see.

I might as well be. Since this could not be reality, he felt no compulsory need to lie, though he couldn't possibly bear to say more than that. I've lost all passion in my life. I feel rudderless. I feel empty. I'd join you, but I made a promise. He turned from her, eyes burning and nose filled with saltscent.

Outside, the sky and the sea appeared inverted. The darkest clouds ever perceived had blanketed the world, leaving earth moonless and frigid, and the ocean lay still as a pool, glimmering darkly as it reflected unseen starlight. Yet, even in the eerie calm, the roar of deep and moving waters persisted, lifting to a deafening crescendo as Svalinn gazed listlessly at the twisting planes.

he would join her, in time.

caiaphas felt herself flicker like the long shadow of thin candlelight.

you made a promise? she leaned forward in interest, seeing her reflection in the dull glint of his dubloon-chestnut gaze. he'd turned away! caiaphas crawled along the oppressive cave walls, setting her gaze upon him in great interest. to who?

My daughters, he whispered to the shade beside him. Svalinn looked from the terrible and strange view and cast an eye down on his dream-mother. She was still devilish, a small demon with possessiveness in every flickering line upon her dark face. A face only a son could love.

But she was not real. Manifest from the deepest parts of his heart: hungry, covetous, unreachable. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. But who am I kidding, right? I've never kept a promise. Had he ever promised anything at all?

daughters. plural.

an old flame rekindled in caiaphas' fading heart. her wretched son, now faced with the dilemma an untold millennia old.

then... maybe it is time you follow through. for them -- but most importantly, for himself.

the siren would have enjoyed meeting his daughters, but it was he who was here in front of her -- he who shared his first hours alongside her -- he who had held part of her heart.

would he understand?

Then... maybe it is time you follow through.

Svalinn looked away from her, shamefaced and burning. She had not said it with any particular affect, but it was impossible for him not to feel overwhelmed by the tide of regret washing over him. He shuddered to think of failing again, like he had when Caiaphas herself had been grievously injured.

When he turned to her again, she was gone.

I'll be seeing you, Ma, he whispered to the void she had left beside him.

His gaze swiveled bitterly towards the rolling pitch clouds, which were now framed by silent flashes of purple lightning reflected in the flat, dark ocean. Such darkness loomed ahead that he hesitated to venture out of the grotto. Though this place, these shores, had been witness to countless unspeakable horrors, he still felt protected here and thought of it as a sacred place. A mausoleum for which he was caretaker.

The reluctance lasted only a second.

Trotting out into the eerie night, the soundless storm above began to still and the sky became clearer with each step forward, revealing a full and bright moon above him. The sea started to pulse and the waves returned, rolling stronger and faster until a cold shock of water lapped onto his paws...

***

Svalinn awoke in Sapphique with a slow start, his heart aching and his body made of stone. And still, he rose from his lonely bedding and made way for the sound in the pre-dawn light.