Chapter Text
Lenore had been sailing for a few days now, living off of the food and water she managed to carry with her from Ada’s island, though she had to be particularly careful not to let it fall off the side of the raft considering there was no barrier to keep it from floating away into the wine-dark sea.
It had been a rough few days, but she knew it was only about to get worse.
Lenore was approaching the lair of the raven.
Of course, she wasn’t about to go past the raven again. After all the traumatic memories, Lenore doesn’t know if she’d survive if she went by that cliff again. If she saw the raven’s beady eyes again.
More importantly – to her head, though her heart feels the previous point was more significant – this time around, she didn’t have six crew members to sacrifice for the raven. She would never make it across without getting snatched up like her crew did.
She also wouldn’t have to see the look in Duke’s eyes when he realized she’d planned it all along.
Lenore shook her head, breaking herself out of her memories. She couldn’t dwell on them now – they would only slow her down, and she’s on an important mission. A mission to get home to Annabel Lee and Pluto.
Right now, that means coming up with a plan to pass the whirlpool, Charybdis.
Last time, she evaded Charybdis by passing through the lair of the raven, thinking passage around Charybdis would be impossible. At the time, it may have been, but with only herself and her few items, she thinks she can make something work.
Lenore scours her brain for all the information she’d learned about the sea monster from her studies. It was basic information: Thrice a day, Charybdis swallows the water in the sea around her, then throws it up again.
Yeah, Lenore could definitely work with this. Somehow.
Okay, she doesn’t exactly have a plan right now, but Berenice and Poppet would not have set her up for failure. There’s no other way to go but through Charybdis or the Raven, and she wasn’t keen on trying the latter again.
The Raven was clearly a no-go, so the only other option was Charybdis. Poppet must have known this, and she would not have gone through the effort of fighting to free Lenore from Ada’s island only for her to perish on her way around the sea monster.
So, there is clearly a solution available to Lenore. She just needs to find it.
As Lenore’s raft approaches the whirlpool, she takes in the scene before her, eyes staying pointedly glued away from the lair of the raven. This was both for her own mental state as well as the need to assess the situation. She wouldn’t let anything stop her from making it back to Annabel, she promised herself already, and she wasn’t going to go back on it.
The whirlpool was slowly picking up speed, swirling the dark water around. The sea monster’s teeth were poking through the water, sharp and gleaming in the sunlight. There was very obviously an unapproachable obstacle on the left, and a high cliff’s edge on the right.
While Charybdis was sucking in the water, there was no way of making it around her. Worse, Lenore doesn’t want to stick around to find out what will happen to her when Charybdis ends up spitting the water back out. She might lose her raft and everything she has on it.
As she’s darting her eyes around, looking for some miracle solution to appear – since she’s starting to feel a little hopeless – she notices a fig tree hanging on the side of the cliff. It’s growing lopsided, branches stretching out across the water then attempting to stick up towards the sky. Even so, it’s in reach.
The tree might be terribly wrong in its growth pattern, but it’s exactly what Lenore needs right now, and she feels the urge to send a thanks to the gods. Still, after all of her experiences, she’s quite picky about which divine beings she wants to thank, so she settles for sending a prayer to only Poppet and Berenice. Hopefully they hear it.
Lenore takes a moment to ponder her plan. Even if she could lift herself onto the tree and wait for the moment when Charybdis spits the water back out, using the wave to propel herself and the raft away from the sea monster, there still is the problem of getting the raft up there.
Lifting herself up on her own would be no great issue, but the raft would be tricky. Without the raft, her plan to ride the wave as Charybdis spits the sea’s water out would be rendered completely useless. So she needed to find a way to hold onto it, but she couldn’t figure how.
The fig tree may be in reach, but not without necessitating Lenore to jump up to grab hold onto it. It would be impossible for her to do that while bringing the raft back to her, so she’s back to square one.
However…
An idea pops into Lenore’s mind, and it’s completely mad and absolutely dangerous, but it’s exactly what she needs to do. Berenice told her to act dangerously, and she thinks she’s starting to know why.
If Charybdis spits all the water that she swallowed back out, then who’s to say she doesn’t spit all the objects she swallows back out too?
If Lenore just let her raft get sucked into the whirlpool while she herself hung onto the fig tree, she may be able to time it right and jump back onto the raft and ride the wave as Charybdis spits the water out.
The plan is either completely insane or inexplicably genius. Lenore’s not so sure which one it is right now, but she doesn’t have any other options. There’s a lot of maybes and up-to-chances with this one, but with Poppet and Berenice looking down on her kindly, she hoped she’d have enough divine luck that she can pull it off.
Taking a deep breath, Lenore stands up and readies herself. She’d already eaten recently, but she does take a long drink of the rest of her water. While she’s fairly confident she would be able to get her raft back to her – hopefully without any significant damage – she was almost certain the same couldn’t be said about her food or water.
So, Lenore picks up her oar and starts slowly pushing her way towards the swirling ocean water. Once she gets close enough to the whirlpool, she won’t need to do any rowing to get her where she wants to go.
Her arms ache from the constant rowing from the previous days, but she’s been in worse condition during the war and her journey back, so she forces herself to suck it up. There isn’t any time for rest or complaining if she wants to make it back home. All the times she’d screwed up before was when she let her guard down and ended up paying for it dearly.
The current was starting to pull the raft in, and Lenore readied herself.
She could do this. Definitely.
Maybe.
Well, it’s not like she had any other choice, anyways.
The raft finally enters the whirlpool, and there’s no opportunity for turning back even if she decided she wanted to. The ravenette glances warily at Charybdis’ teeth that poke out through the water as she swallows the contents of the sea, but she doesn’t let it rattle her.
She can do this.
The raft starts to pick up speed as it gets sucked in farther into the spiral, and Lenore grips her flimsy mast with one hand, and the wind bag in the other. Knees bending slightly, she waits for the raft to approach the tree.
She would need to jump and cling onto the tree without dropping the bag, and with enough leverage that she could perch herself on the branch in waiting. Couldn’t be too hard, right?
The waves move her closer to the tree, and she waits in anticipation, ensuring her timing would be right.
Three…
Two…
One…
Jump!
Lenore takes the leap, grip tightening on the wind bag desperately and arms reaching up towards the branches. Miraculously, she manages a steady grip on one of the branches, and it doesn’t snap under her weight one bit.
The ravenette lets out a giddy, delirious laugh. This wasn’t by far the most dangerous, unpredictable part of her plan, but she felt accomplished to have succeeded either way.
She’d made it through the first step, now all she needed to do was wait.
Lenore’s arms start to ache from where they are holding her body weight up above the sea monster, and she groans at the realization she’d have to pull herself up onto the branch. Still, what had to be done had to be done, so she sucked in a deep breath and pulled herself up onto the hanging branch.
When she finally brought her body over the branch, there was no sure way of sitting down, so she ended up wrapping her arms and legs around the branch – resembling a sleepy koala.
Of course, Lenore couldn’t allow herself to fall asleep. She needed to be on watch for when Charybdis would spit the water back out, but the chance for her body to finally rest caused her to let out a deep sigh. Her arms definitely appreciated the break, though her fist was still mercilessly clenched around the wind bag.
Nothing was going to lead her to drop that.
Waiting was arduous, and she was fighting sleep the whole time. Maybe she could just close her eyes…
Lenore glanced at the sky. It was still early in the day, and she could probably get away with a few hours of sleep before she’d need to hop on the raft. Sleep was important, after all, and she was in a place where resting was entirely possible…
She knew in her heart it wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was as if Hypnos was looming over her, dragging her into the depths of oblivion. Lenore knew she wouldn’t be able to keep awake even if she tried her hardest.
Sighing, she figured she could use a few hours asleep, especially since her journey wasn’t done yet. Lenore made sure to use a bit of rope to tie the wind bag to her arm, knowing she couldn’t trust her unconscious self to not let it drop.
Surely a sea monster spitting out the depths of the sea she’d swallowed would be loud, wouldn’t it? It could alert her awake…
All of her musings fell to the back of her mind as her eyes drooped, and Lenore finally let them fall, succumbing to sleep.
~~~~~
Lenore’s eyes opened, up to the sun’s rays shining in her eyes, and though she wanted to groan and roll over, getting a few more minutes of shut-eye, she soon realized she was not in a bed. She was in a fig tree. Rolling over would probably mean sudden death.
The ravenette’s eyes snapped open, and she saw Charybdis was still swallowing ocean water, but it seemed to be slowing down.
The monster would probably spit the water back out, soon.
Thanking whatever divine being had woken her up right on time – she suspected it was Poppet, seeking to bring her back home, but she still wasn’t sure if she forgave Lenore for what she’d said the last time they spoke – Lenore pushed herself up onto the branch, and it wobbled precariously.
Still, she needed a good stance for jumping down if she spotted her raft, so she maneuvered herself to where both of her legs were hanging off the same side of the branch.
She could do this. She could totally do this, right?
With all the luck she’d had so far, Lenore hoped she’d be able to grasp another straw of it before it ran out. Succeeding in this plan would take no small amount of luck and divine intervention, and Lenore knew that.
She was sure she could time it right and her planning wasn’t flawed, but there were too many variables, too many things that could go wrong for her not to be worried.
Suddenly, the swirling of water completely stopped, and for a blissful second, the seas were still. But Lenore knew what would be coming next.
There was a sudden, loud crash as Charybdis’ mouth opened once more, this time letting out all of the remnants of the sea she’d swallowed.
Lenore kept her eyes peeled, scanning the rush of water for the sight of her flimsy raft. She sincerely hoped it didn’t get completely destroyed within the sea monster’s stomach.
Like a stroke of good luck, the mast of the raft peeked through the water and the raft came barreling towards her along the spiraling wave outwards. Lenore braced herself, then jumped down, arms out to try and cling to the mast.
Impossibly, her arms came in contact with wood, and she was on her raft once more. Even more miraculously, her old oar flew out of the water just as she stabilized herself, and Lenore snatched it up with her free hand.
This must have been the doing of at least one of the gods, if not more. Lenore had a good feeling it was either due to Poppet or Berenice, so she sent a quick prayer their way. Really, she couldn’t be more grateful for divine luck than she was now.
The wave did most of the work on its own, and all she had to do was hold on as the raft as it was pushed on the other side of the cliff, past Charybdis and the cursed lair of the raven.
Lenore lets out a giddy, disbelieving laugh. She could not comprehend how that had all just happened. She did the impossible. She’s making it home.
For the first time in a long, long time, she feels lighter than air. She feels like anything could be possible, as long as she tried hard enough. She felt like everything that had happened could end up being worth it – if only to see the glee on Annabel’s face when she made it home.
It was blissful – even as her arms ached – all the way back to Ithaca. It wasn’t far anymore, and before long, she began to see the island within sight. Even though her muscles were screaming at her to stop, she pushed her arms to keep going, to keep rowing.
Lenore Vandernacht would finally make it back home. It didn’t seem possible, but her future was in sight and tangible before her.
“I’m coming back, Annabel Lee.” Lenore spoke to the island that was still so far away.
Looking away from the island to focus on her paddle in the wine-dark sea, Lenore started to notice the waves becoming more abrasive. Unusually abrasive for this time.
A drop of water hit her face, and Lenore glanced up at the sky immediately. To her horror, dark, ominous clouds were swirling in the sky, directly above her.
Not natural. Godly.
“No…” Lenore breathed, terror weaving its way right into her heart, replacing the newfound hope and giddiness she’d only just discovered within her.
A deep, terrifyingly familiar voice rumbles from behind her.
“There you are, coward.”
Lenore is shaking as she turns her body around, facing Mourn himself. He’s completely in his element, here in the water, and as a mere mortal, she’s completely at his mercy.
What was the point of all that luck if it was just going to end up getting her nowhere? Was this just some sick game Poppet wanted to play on Lenore – one last ‘I told you so’ before she died at the hands of a god who despises her?
“I’ve been watching you through your journey. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you traveling my seas? Of course I saw your every move, but I waited to strike until you were nearing your coast, until you believed you really would get home.”
Lenore growled, anger simmering within her. “So you just wanted to snatch it all away right as I got close?”
Mourn’s frown never left him, but his eyes still looked particularly gleeful. “Precisely.”
“You’re sick!” Lenore shouts, uncaring about whatever etiquette she should probably be using in the presence of the gods.
This is what they do. They trick you into thinking you’re getting what you wanted, that you have any control over your fate, then they remind you that everything that happened was all because of them.
Gods don’t have any care for mortal lives. They don’t understand the feelings and emotions mortals go through. They’re just like little dolls to them – they pick and choose their favorite one to craft into their own personal soldier, then throw them out into the world for other gods to ruin.
She can’t believe she fell for their trick again. Just like a fool.
“Why do you care so much about what happens to me!? Isn’t it beneath you to take such a puny mortal life as mine into such great account!? I don’t matter, so just let me go home!” Lenore shouts, desperate to reach her home again.
She was so close.
Mourn tuts at her, and it makes Lenore’s blood boil. “You must not understand my situation. I have a reputation to uphold as the god of the seas. If I let you float back home so easily while you were in my own domain, then I would be a laughingstock among the gods, never being taken seriously.”
Lenore wants nothing more than to just scream after all the anguish she was forced to go through, and is still suffering. Why did this have to happen to her? Why must she be the one who is so hopelessly cursed? Did she not do everything right? Everything she was supposed to?
Mourn pays no mind to her obvious distress, and Lenore wouldn’t be surprised to find he relishes in it instead.
“Let’s make this easy for all of us, hm? Get in the water.” Mourn demands, and Lenore clenches her fists together tightly.
“I’m not a fool, nor do I wish to die right now. Why the ever-loving fuck would I do that?” Lenore questions, but the way Mourn’s eyes harden in concentration makes her silently wish she’d have kept her mouth shut for once. The sea god clearly had no taste for her, and her goading was likely to make him more harsh in his treatment of her.
If it was pointless anyways, though, hell if Lenore was going to sit down and die without a fight, without speaking her mind. She’d been pushed around by gods for far too long.
“I’m sure the lives of your precious wife and son could persuade you.”
Lenore’s stomach drops. No. Somehow, nothing within her could’ve prepared for this response.
The ravenette could take any blow directed at her, any harm that could come her way would be nothing in comparison to all the torture she’s already been forced to go through.
But her actions leading to the devastation of those she loved? That was not acceptable, and she doesn’t think she would be able to survive if she had to see another person she’d loved die because of her decisions again.
“What do you mean?” Lenore asks in thinly veiled horror.
Mourn scoffs, like it was a chore to explain his power to a puny mortal. “With the mere twitch of a finger, I could raise the tides and flood your pathetic island in an instant. Your wife? Your son? Drowned.”
“No.” Lenore breathes out, the image appearing in her mind against her will. The look of terror in Annabel Lee’s eyes as she sees the giant wave leering above the island. Lenore couldn’t even imagine what Pluto might look like now, grown, but she imagines him desperate to run away despite the sheer futility of it. Not only her family, but all of her people, the subjects of Ithaca would be caught in the crossfire. The Ithaca race would become extinct.
“YES!” Mourn shouts, but it’s not in triumph, it’s in unbridled rage. He must be tired of having this go on for so long. Not only this conversation, but this feud entirely. It started the day Lenore wounded the stag, and now it ends today, no matter what happens next. “I could snatch your son from the palace right now and gouge his eyes out if I wanted, so get in the water, or I’ll be inclined to take action against your precious family.”
Lenore is near hyperventilating, scouring her brain for some way to get out of this. She can’t die, doesn’t want to die. After all this time, is she really going to give herself up to the mercy of Mourn, the one who is the cause of so much of her suffering?
Since Lenore doesn’t have a plan yet, she starts to do what she does best. Talk.
“Aren’t you tired of this by now, Mourn? We’ve both lost and been punished enough. Why can’t we just let this go already? We can both go home if you’d only let us.”
Mourn looks conflicted, like he’s physically struggling with the idea. “I can’t.” The god grits out.
But Lenore doesn’t want to give up. Even a hint of confliction is enough for her to work with. A chance. A golden opportunity.
“Mourn… you could still learn forgiveness. It’s never too late.” Lenore pours all the compassion she can into her voice, trying to really sell the point. She believes it, of course, and thinks that maybe if the god is willing to give peace a chance, she could find it in herself to someday forgive him for all the pain he’s caused her. Still, for now, her main point is to let Mourn just allow her to get through to her home.
Mourn deals with a strained expression for a minute, and hope reignites itself in Lenore’s heart. But just as soon as it came, it disappeared as the sea god’s eyes darken.
“No. Don’t you remember? Nobody survives this world without being ruthless! You’ve already continued living long enough – it’s time for you to DIE!”
Before Lenore can so much as get a word out, a wave lurches and flips her raft completely upside down, throwing her straight into the depths of the water. She holds her breath, flailing desperately in her attempts to break the surface, but the water around her keeps pushing her farther and farther down. Mourn isn’t letting her escape again, that much is clear.
She didn’t want to die, but here, underneath the water, she knows she is going to. This is the end for her.
Below the surface, the world becomes quite fuzzy, and the raging storm outside sounds muted in her ears. It’s almost a peaceful sort of calm, when she relaxes her body as she gets pulled down into the depths of the sea. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst way to die, even if her heart panged over the fact that she never got the chance to see Annabel Lee again. To tell her how much she loved her, thought about her in every moment.
As much as she feels an absent sort of acceptance for her death, and her lungs burn like fire, she doesn’t let go of her breath. It’s difficult, but she still wishes for a little bit of denial before she fully accepts her death.
Lenore thinks of all the people that she’ll get to see again. Duke, Morella, Theo, her crew. Their voices fill her mind in a soft, haunting way, nothing like the screams she heard on the top of the cliff in Ogygia.
There’s one thing that sticks out in her mind, though.
Waiting… Waiting…
Annabel Lee was waiting. Lenore was going to die, and she would still be waiting. Lenore was going to rot in the deepest depths of the ocean, and Annabel Lee was going to wait until the day that she died.
She couldn’t do that to her. Lenore had to get back, but it was so hopeless…
A bag comes floating towards her in her line of vision, and the spark that ignites itself in Lenore’s brain is too great to ignore.
Berenice’s warnings come to her in a daze. If you open this bag, you’ll never make it home.
Well, Lenore was running out of options, so fuck it all. It was this or nothing, and she’s gone through too much in the past years to lie down and accept nothing.
Lenore snatches the bag with one hand, and cleanly unties the string with another. The blast of wind that emerges is violent, and it’s hard on her body, but she holds onto the bag like her last lifeline as strong wind envelops the space around her, and she comes shooting out of the water.
Mourn’s expression of shock is enough to motivate Lenore into fully committing to her actions. She may not be able to kill him, but she was going to make him hurt.
As she’s further propelled into the air, tactically positioning the still-emptying wind bag to keep her above the water, her eyes snatch on Mourn’s glistening trident. A godly weapon. She needed her hands on it now.
“What. are. you. doing.” Mourn grits out, enraged at the fact that Lenore would still have the gall to keep trying, even when death seemed inevitable, but also a hint of shock that she would be willing to doom herself like this just to get to him.
Well, he doesn’t know that Lenore doesn’t exactly plan on letting herself be doomed to never make it home, but he’ll find out later.
“You don’t get it, do you? I can’t afford to die, not after everything I’ve lost already!” Lenore grips the bag tighter, beginning to angle it so she shoots straight for the trident that was already loosely gripped in the shell-shocked god’s hand. “I will be getting back to my son and my wife, and you are not going to stand in my way anymore!”
The wind bag propels her forward, and she takes Mourn’s trident clean out of his hands, relishing with the power she now holds in her hands. Oh yes, she was going to make this hurt.
“THIS is for every comrade, every one of my friends that were slaughtered at your hands!” Lenore bellowed, channeling all of her anger, grief, despair, and thirst for revenge into her arms as she strikes the trident right into Mourn’s chest.
The god falls back onto a large rock in the middle of the wine-dark sea, clutching his wound with an expression full of unbearable pain. Golden, shiny blood trickles from the wound in his chest, and more of it drips from the spears of the trident in Lenore’s hand. She drops it to the ground with a clatter.
Mourn only laughs, though it’s significantly more strained than earlier as he still clutches his dripping wound. “You are a fool. A FOOL!”
Lenore’s stoic expression never wavers. “That is what you may think.”
She is done with mercy, done with trying forgiveness. After all that she’s gone through, she’s lost the warm-hearted, kind person she used to be. Something dark and bitter has replaced the old her, and she feels no amount of guilt for what she’s about to do. A part of her even revels in it, satisfied.
Mourn is still chuckling darkly, unaware of what’s to come. “You opened that bag, released my storm that was designed to prevent you from returning home. You are never going to make it back to your dear Ithaca.”
The ravenette raises an unemotional eyebrow. “You’re going to call off that storm.”
Mourn manages to look amused even with the ever-present frown on his face. “Or what? It’s not possible for you to kill me, I’m immortal.”
“Exactly.”
Lenore reaches down for the divine trident she’d dropped on the ground earlier, lifting it up to strike. Mourn’s eyes widen with realization, and he opens his mouth, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, trying to stop her. Lenore is beyond stopping, and she’s doing this for every person Mourn hurt, including herself.
Morella
Theo
Duke
Six hundred crewmates
As the trident sinks into Mourn’s chest once more, he lets out a pain-stricken roar.
“HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE HELPLESS?” Lenore yells, the grief of six hundred of her comrades carrying her as she pulls the trident out of the ichor-soaked wound. “HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW PAIN?”
Morella
Theo
Duke
Six hundred crewmates
“YOU MADE ME WATCH IN HORROR AS ALL MY FRIENDS WERE SLAIN!” The ravenette feels out of her body, focusing only on her grief, rage, and the motion of stabbing, pulling out. Stab, pull out.
Morella
Theo
Duke
Six hundred crewmates
“I HEARD ALL THEIR FINAL MOMENTS!” Lenore yells into the violent, rapid winds of the storm surrounding them. There are no tears in her eyes, only bitter, dark hatred. “THEY WERE CALLING ME, THEIR CAPTAIN, IN VAIN!”
Morella
Theo
Duke
Six hundred crewmates
Mourn’s pained screams and gasps have faded into the background, the swirling, hounding storm around them barely deterring Lenore’s fury.
“YOU TURNED ME INTO THIS! LOOK WHAT I’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOU!” Lenore sends the trident into Mourn’s gut once more, seeing another satisfying splash of gold.
“Enough.” Mourn gruffs, but it’s weak through the pain he’s enduring. Nothing like the commanding, frightening god he was before. Right now, he’s at Lenore’s mercy, and she’s not feeling merciful.
Morella
Theo
Duke
Six hundred crewmates
“AFTER ALL THE PAIN I’VE BEEN THROUGH, DON’T YOU THINK I SUFFERED ENOUGH?” Lenore roared, cursing every long year she stayed on Ada’s island, every battle she entered with Eulalie, the stag, the raven, Mourn himself.
“STOP!” Mourn manages to get out with more volume. Lenore’s sure he’s never been in such pain like this before, and she relishes on being the one to bring him to such a humanlike feeling.
“YOU DIDN’T STOP WHEN I BEGGED YOU. INSTEAD, YOU TOLD ME TO CLOSE MY HEART!” Lenore is just stabbing, stabbing, stabbing. She doesn’t know how many times the trident had sunk into godly skin. She doesn’t know how many punctures would appear on the god’s chest. It was all just one, big, mess of golden blood leaking out of his stomach.
“You– MONSTER!” Mourn growled as the trident sank in one more time, and Lenore’s fury boiled at the irony.
After all her time fighting monsters, had she finally become one? She told herself in the Underworld that she would become the monster willingly in order to survive, but she’s never felt so truly monstrous until now. Prospero had told her a monster would be returning home in Lenore’s place, and she feels the prophecy ringing true. Her journey had changed her, and she was unsure of who this new person returning to Ithaca would be received.
Even with her contemplation, Lenore doesn’t turn her mind away from the rage she’s feeling for Mourn. The trident is raised again, and she’s pushing it downwards to sink in once more. “DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT RUTHLESSNESS IS MERCY UPON–”
“ALRIGHT!” Mourn bellows, holding a hand out in surrender. “Please…” Lenore pauses where the trident wavered right above Mourn’s gut, and she slowly moved it away to let it clatter on the floor.
She just had a god begging her to stop. It was an immensely powerful feeling, but Lenore didn’t really feel all that satisfied. Sure, she got her revenge, and she was sure she’d be getting back home soon enough with Mourn at her mercy like this, but the hole in her heart left behind by all her friends that had died will never be filled.
Mourn gasps for air for a moment, and the clouds above them start to part. The wind dies down, the sea calms, and the sun peeks out through the sky, lighting up the world as if it were any average, sunny day. Lenore wants to laugh at the stark dissonance of the weather and how she feels, but she doesn’t have much humor left in her.
The poor raft she’d been sailing on makes its way towards the rock with a wave sent by the sea god, thankfully still intact. Lenore turns to go towards it, set on returning back to her home, finally.
She’s stopped in her tracks when Mourn speaks into the silence. “After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night?”
The ravenette already hardly does sleep, and when she can, it’s haunted by nightmares of those she’s lost. A monster never sleeps peacefully.
Of course, she’s not about to tell Mourn any of that, but there’s one thing that Lenore is certain she will have by the end of her story.
Lenore barely turns her head towards him, a dark look in her eyes as she peers at the god who had caused her so much misery for years. He looked pitiful here, leaning against a rock with an arm wrapped around his stomach, golden blood surrounding his body as he let out pained gasp after pained gasp.
Their cold eyes meet one another, and Lenore feels… nothing for him.
How will she sleep at night? Lenore answers him, emotionless.
“Next to my wife.”