Hector- Voice

Hector had heard the voice for the last two nights, calling him across the water, teasing him as to the White Isle’s whereabouts. Hector winced, thinking about the sensation. Voice wasn’t the correct word, as no true words were recognizable within the call. More it was a series of images lancing through his mind, feelings and flashes of knowledge tantalizingly out of reach. The strange language was archaic, but somehow Hector recognized it. In his heart he knew the call held the answers to a world of questions, answers that he’d find in no ancient tomes or scrolls. It was connected to the communing, he was sure, the telepathy similar to his bond with Vincent’s vile. But there was a great power behind this; the call promised something. Hector needed to discover what.

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