Ankyra Sound Any wind means we're running

When Tux responded in Trigedasleng, it broke the spell on Ephraim, who blinked and looked around for his tuxedo'd friend. His white chest seemed instead to be a pale shade of blue in this light, his dark top coat disappearing into the shadows, and the yellow fringe on his throat had taken on the eerie hue of dried blood in the low light. Swallowing thickly, he swung back to the pool and fixed his gaze on its rippling surface. I'm not sure, he said, but that wasn't true. He knew deep down.

He took several steps into the heart of the grotto, his nails clicking on the stone and echoing around them. Somewhere nearby a bat dropped from the ceiling with a squeak and disappeared down a tunnel. He trailed it with his vision as it dodged a stalactite and fluttered out of view. Coming back to himself, he returned his attention to the water and felt a strong compulsion to swim over to the platform in the center, but he was stayed by his own confusion. What if it was dangerous? But no, it couldn't be, it was just water.

I remember this glow and this water, from when I was little, he breathed, approaching the water's edge and peering down into it. I think... this might have been my home a long time ago. He croaked the last bit out and bit back a swell of emotion that clogged his throat.