62. The Soulkeeper

[ELARA]

From the shore, I watch the Cursed Gulf bubble. Steam billows from its surface, boiling despite the cold wind that prickles my bare arms, forming tiny cuts through which blood oozes. But it isn't red; it's a mixture of black and gold, shimmering as it trickles down my arms. Dark clouds gather in the sky, shrouding the shore.

My eyes are fixed on the lone cog approaching, paddled by a mysterious figure, its mast bearing a singular sail adorned with a skull. The air is filled with the sound of water splashing and gurgling. As it edges closer, I hold my breath. When the cog grinds to a halt on the sand, the sky clears, revealing the figure.

The man wears a dark robe, his face hidden by a long hood. His hands gripping the paddle are plain bones, devoid of skin. My body casts a long shadow on the sand, but he has no shadow.

It’s the Soulkeeper.

This isn’t real, I realize with a gasp. ‘Wake up,’ Lila’s distorted voice echoes in my mind. ‘Wake up!’

But I can’t will myself awake. I can