Spirals of cool, seawater gales wafted in from the ocean, riding the low tides before finally sailing easily across the shore. They picked up loose strands of forelock as they went and tugged them away from my face. It felt more like an omen than a force of nature, but the inevitable darkness that accompanied a man like Ulrik was certain to bring ill tidings to any unsuspecting soul. I mulled over the fine lines of his face for a moment when he turned to face me, but found my stare wavering, unsure. He was just as I’d left him, cold and unassuming, and somehow a pillar that stood strong against the rushing of my many uncertainties. Like a hurricane, I’d been transformed from a confident thunderhead into a destructive squall, blowing across every line I’d ever drawn.

My rampant high winds had lost control and I’d spun mindlessly about until everything around me was left in mere shambles. Only now had I managed to contain my own tempest and calm the pandemonium racketing haphazardly at the core of my very being…. But looking at him threatened to spoil any such progress. Ulrik shook loose the rain that brewed behind closed doors and pressed against the impassive walls that shielded my emotions. Yet, instead of becoming consumed by him, by myself, I threaded the last of my willpower around my heart until only the distant rumbling of thunder echoed against my hollow remembrances.

I took a step toward him, finding only the false imaginings of strength to guide me forward. Even imitated confidence was better than feeling what lingered against the warmth of my skin and against the backs of my eyes where memories longed to come to light. I feared what I saw in him and feared more what we’d been through together despite being on opposing ends of death. The loss of Midas had spurred in me an undeniable hatred for all, for Helovia, and for the things I could’ve, but wasn’t allowed to do. When the grief had faded, I’d been able to reconcile with my past somehow, though only shallowly. Instead, I’d begun to dwell on things lighter and less substantial to my heart.

Frisking about Helovia had certainly become a hobby of mine and I’d met many new faces, some dear and some not. I recalled Caneo, my dreamer and newly established friend, as I’d welcomed him to the Throat. I thought of Auriel and the unhappy look on her face when I’d mentioned her mother, Elsa. Even Misael had left a noticeable mark on my disposition- they were all helping to uncover a future I thought I’d never have.

But Ulrik… he was different somehow, though I couldn’t quite put a finger on why.

When at last I was close enough to glance up toward the molten bronze of his stare, I simply studied while he spoke. There was no animated hello or questions about how I’d been… True to his nature, he kept any curiosities tightly bound within while I floundered before him like a child. This wasn’t how he would have recalled me anyway. “Because that’s how I remember you.” 

The words came quickly, but seemingly sure, and I turned to watch as Kirchoff continued to chew and mutilate the bone he’d probably found hidden in the sands. Had nothing changed?