All I see is white—a blinding void swallowing everything else. My pupils shrink to the point of near extinction, my eyes clenched shut against the overwhelming brightness. A hand, not my own, shields my face. It is the hand of the brown figure—one whose presence I had failed to feel until now. Even now, I sense nothing. Instead, I see only a black silhouette, a stark figure breaking the piercing, luminous glow. The image reminds me of the eclipse on the ship. Instinctively, I try to look down, but I cannot.
“Kaila, it’s time to eat.”
A man’s voice cuts through the light—gruff and gravelly. He wields a staff, the tip aflame, holding it just before me. His figure is difficult to discern, but the faint details emerge: a full beard framing a broad jaw, sharp teeth glinting between his cracked lips. His pale skin carries a faint brownish hue, and his bald head gleams under the light.