increasingly distressed priest
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Summary
Ragnar is no longer alone. He’s started walking more slowly now that he actually is aware of where he is going. He can’t stop and he can’t go anywhere else but he can slow down, so that’s what he does. He takes his time because he doesn’t know how long this, whatever it is, is going to last. He doesn’t know what’s coming next, and it might be worse, it will certainly be much worse if he’s being honnest, though he longs for nothing but darkness.
(That’s not true. He longs for something else. But there’s no point in longing for something he can’t have.)
He breathes the marine air and listens to the wind in the trees, taste the rain that has started falling on his tongue and enjoys the damps grass under his bare feet. And in the middle of enjoying all this as much as a dead man can enjoy anything while trying not to go where his feet are taking him, a voice carries out to him. There’s somebody else here. Somebody’s singing.