Swiftcurrent Creek once, there was a way to get back home

'No, Papa.'

It was with a look of incredulous pain he regarded her in these moments--the pull of her story and the haunting words of his cousin, Lestan, now long gone.

Mayfair curse.

It had to be... it had to be.. 

Maybe it was seconds. Maybe it was a lengthy stretch, but Akavir could not catch his thoughts to even respond--because if anything had to be a nightmare, it must have been this, surely?

Lilitu, he began, and his tongue was ash.

And then the bile came, and he turned from her. In the back of his mind, the reality of it all began to weave it's way to the forefront of his mind, displayed like one large WARNING sign.

He knew this disease. Of it. Never had he witnessed it.

Never...

He held back the bile and his dry heave-- his eyes were glazed, and he looked to the horizon, a firmness set upon him. Then we find someone who can help.

To the ends of the earth.

To hell. 

To wherever he need to go.