[ It was a folktale that protected the magus from being devoured in seconds (minutes? hours? years? it was impossible to tell, there is no sense of time here);
The Devil cannot kill Waver of Kent, in a way.
Eventually, he'll realize he's lost somewhere somewhere that's pitch-black and he neither see or hear anything. The darkness presses heavily onto him, incomprendable faint mutters of the voices keening for atonement and respite. Crying, wailing, the taint eating away at him.
It seemed like—like seemed to be a world filled with anger, chaos and hate. ]
2/2
The Devil cannot kill Waver of Kent, in a way.
Eventually, he'll realize he's lost somewhere somewhere that's pitch-black and he neither see or hear anything. The darkness presses heavily onto him, incomprendable faint mutters of the voices keening for atonement and respite. Crying, wailing, the taint eating away at him.
It seemed like—like seemed to be a world filled with anger, chaos and hate. ]