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1.35: The Headsman’s Mien
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1.37: Catrin
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... world in a dreamlike veil. Quiet, still, and depthless.
Catrin’s eyes locked on the shadow of the castle looming from the depths of the lake ahead, enthroned within its drowned field of ruined, shattered buildings. She rowed this time, while I watched the depths of the mist, wary of ambush.
“I don’t hear those sentries from before,” I noted. I recalled huge, winged things clinging to the sunken buildings.
“They’re night beasts,” Catrin said. “Might not run into them.” I ...
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