Luther opened his mouth to speak.
But then the wooden walls of the ship groaned with a pained creaking, like that of an old beast as a wave slammed against the hull. The floor lurched beneath his boots, sending a few papers tumbling from the nearby desk. He grabbed the doorframe to steady himself, his coat swaying with the sudden tilt.
"Gods, can't this cursed boat just stay still for once?" he said, brushing his disheveled hair back with a tired hand.
He turned-only to find that Alina was gone.
The spot she'd been standing in moments before was empty. No trace of her angelic glow, no faint perfume, not even the soft hum that usually lingered around her presence.
Luther blinked once, then twice. "…You've got to be kidding me."
