Oystercatcher Tide Pools A man with intent on his face

Too many visions had sickly skittered through Cry’s mind, forcing him to relive his entire life just that quickly. His trainings with Slade, how he had been tortured, his near death so many times before, and clearly so many times after. It swirled a rancid sickness in him that Reiner unknowingly injected easily into the man who was deemed ‘unbreakable’ by Slade’s belief. Apparently the Nightmare King hadn’t tried hard enough, or perhaps Cry was too stubborn to break so easily then. But age, duty to his family, obligations, all forced him into this role.

Finally he was released, and with haste he clawed to shore, clearly baptized in an entirely new perspective as his wheezes came forth, his choking gasps and snorts making it obvious he knew nothing about holding his breath. 
He finally turned a vehement stare of broken ice to the smug hellfires above, the draconic icon near god in height to his sopping wet crumple. 

“Teach me...”