Blackbeak Bluff Only death can finish the fight.

It was the caw of seabirds that drew him across emerald pastures toward and toward the sea once more. To stray too far from it felt like losing his way, and the last thing he wanted was to venture inland. It had been several months since Portia had spoken to him in his dreams, instructing him to find the first of his sisters to take her leave. Dacio recalled her request vividly, holding onto the minimal information of Dalia's whereabouts that she provided. Would she still be there, after all this time? Perhaps she'd have moved on by now, seeking her true place in the world, far from Drageda's proud cliffs.

He found himself lingering quietly where the land gave way to a sheer drop, and blinked down to look upon the lapping waves far below. The tang of salt on the air was welcome and he breathed deep the scent of it, the scent of home, before the reminder of what was no longer his caused his lip to curl in frustration. Dacio turned away with a soft snort, and continued West toward the distant sands.