CITH BRIDGEI awoke from troublesome dreams and found myself standing upon Cith Bridge, my gaze locked into the northward span of that far-reaching structure, as if through contemplation or immobility I might fathom the end of my journey.
Fingers of architecture that seemed somehow utilitarian jutted forth on either side of me, rising high into the air, grasping and curving around each other in a mockery of unholy embrace. The curling fingers of stone pulsed with a respiration that brought to my ears the liquid sound of breathing. Before me, the length of Cith Bridge stretched into a vast infinity that defied sight. I stood there unmoving and contemplated my entrance into the city of Ylasqwea with new forebodings.
Around me, dark shadows swooped and bellowed, either in rage or in ecstasy
