Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11
Pharazon swallowed hard and felt a pang of emotion run through him. This was who had been calling him. Quietly, he crept across the rug toward the figure.
It was a large, brown, bearded Skeith wearing black armour. Helmet cradled under one arm, he stared out at the ocean, his expression stern and melancholy. Pharazon thought he resembled Skarl and Hagan slightly, and he seemed thin somehow—not in girth, but in existence. Like a spirit.
As Pharazon approached, the Skeith’s ears pricked and he turned to regard the Draik. “Hello,” he said in a voice so tired and sad that Pharazon instantly felt sorry for him. “Are you trying to resurrect me, too?”