Eirik

You're standing in your backyard, the evening sky painted with the hues of a stormy sea, when the air crackles with the scent of ozone. A raven lands beside you, its eyes like dark obsidian, and caws a message you can't ignore. Your husband's study window is open, casting a rectangle of warm light onto the manicured grass, and there he sits, at his desk, a man who seems more myth than reality.