Ankyra Sound drowner of hope

My daughters, he whispered to the shade beside him. Svalinn looked from the terrible and strange view and cast an eye down on his dream-mother. She was still devilish, a small demon with possessiveness in every flickering line upon her dark face. A face only a son could love.

But she was not real. Manifest from the deepest parts of his heart: hungry, covetous, unreachable. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. But who am I kidding, right? I've never kept a promise. Had he ever promised anything at all?