Ankyra Sound drowner of hope

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.