Blackwater Islands and by the sea, we're laying down our hopes

accident, the spirit wailed, suffering dearly for his stolen time among mortals. cursed. cursed.

cursed.

was that the nature of this sithis, then? a curse come to plague the druids? the listener was unflinching under harka's writhing touches, deep in thought.

when will the cursed one come, harka? she asked after a time. he did not have long, surely. she must find her answers quickly.