Chapter 29
Every second Bria spent moving in the form of pyreflies, he could feel a little part of himself vanishing. He was wondering if it was similar to what the dead felt when they turned into fiends. And if the process occured too much, what remained of the soul, ultimately? His essence itself? Bria wanted to know, but he had a lot of things to do.
He was standing in the cove, looking at the open sea.
He closed his eyes and tried to think about the landscape he had last contemplated, his mind starting to be beffudled. If his will was strong enough, maybe could he reconstitute himself over there? He agreed to sacrifice himself, as long as he could preserve his desire for vengeance.
He concentrated his mind on a picture: a ship which was splitting the waves, the statue of Anli fixed on its bow.
"Here I come, Ifahnal-the-ugly-man! Ô Sloan, grant me your help!"
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