A vision spilled through my mind, not of the beauteous faces of my queens as it should have been, but of a dark-eyed scoundrel with the soul of a salmon and the body of a god. He would be ever so disappointed in me for this. Ever so furious at my fall. My end beckoned, and despite all I had to live for, I accepted it, the agony of its approach consuming me as the Nymph leered in my face, a smile twisting its rotten features. I felt its probes brush against my thrashing heart, my magic screaming in desperate refusal, and its power calling to it like a piper to an army of rats. No. I had so much
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Clyde sent them to their death
