Ankyra Sound long and weary my road has been

in that moment caiaphas is reminded of Vlad — not so much in mein, but in the impulsive way the man seemed to grapple life, his eyes never ceasing from flitting from place to place. briefly the sylph followed his gaze, though her own vision ended on the stoic helm of her son. 

he had held his tongue - she wondered then just what occupied his mind.

it intrigued the siren to hear a name — a greek name no less — shared between them. any relation she might have suspected he had with the illfated nereides was snuffed at the mention of a surname. as he inquired to the name of the sound caiaphas wondered just how many iterations, names, and transformations Ankyra had housed - and how futile it seemed now when no evidence of prior legions persisted. this is ankyra sound, the woods behind us, monolith forest. and the band here is rusalka. i am caiaphas, and this is my son, illidan.