A woman has no face

reality whispers a different tune underwater

A bird sits on the shrine, turning one beady eye at the woman. But the bird is not flesh or bone: it is mist, congealed and black and vaguely incorporeal, eating all the light that touches it to create the appearance of a moving, two-dimensional shape. Only its eye has any color, bright green in the sea of the void. Raza cannot be sure if it is opening its mouth or speaking directly into her mind, but its voice sounds like something cold that has never been touched by the sun.

"What do you need help with, Raza? Tell me what you seek."

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