Sylas watched as Salivar fell from the skies, retracting his trident with an almost slow, deliberate action. There was a calmness in his eyes that seemed to paint the picture of a man who didn't care whether or not Salivar was truly dead.
BOOM.
Salivar crashed into the sea of ice. A large slab of transparent white split in two, kicking up like the ends of a cracked skateboard and rising high into the skies.
The man himself disappeared into the waves that appeared between the cracked slab's ends, his body vanishing into the endless, sparkling darkness.
And then the slabs crashed back down, booming waves and pillars of water surging to the point they pierced the clouds above. What blood had been produced was completely washed away, erased as though the life it had come from was meaningless.
Then came the silence. It crept on for several long seconds. But the world itself remained intact. If Salivar was dead, things would have long ended.
But if he wasn't dead, then where was he?
