<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Altair didn't lay his gaze to Cygnus' ship, or his men another moment. He didn't call to them, and he wouldn't beg now, now matter how frightened he actually was. He was done praying as well. He'd said all that needed to be said. His gods would be moved in his death, or they wouldn't. Altair hoped that he'd just be able to fade away. He was wrong. Even weak, it was too painful. The water was chilly, sending sharp needle like pain through his extremities where they were submerged in the water. His body was shivering in an effort to warm him, likely using any of his remaining reserves. He realized the sun would prolong the entire experience. It hadn't been a blessing at all that Cygnus given him his options with the rising of the sun. If he'd gone over in the night, he imagined his death would have been a lot quicker.<br/>
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Instead, this kept him very aware of things for a time. He sought to be closer to the sun, curling his body over the barrel as much as was possible. Prolonging things further, he knew, but it was only natural. He didn't want to die. He let his legs dangle in the water. There was no point in trying to get anywhere. The sea would take him to his grave wherever it pleased.<br/>
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Altair thought of the people who had left an impression on his life. He mourned for the people he was meant to meet, that he never would. He mourned for the loss of self, and he thought back to all the places of Dusan that he would miss. There was a holy place he remembered, an open cavern where sunlight poured in to warm the crystal blue water. His goddess' hands cupping a perfect place of respite, he liked to believe. He tried to pretend that he was there, eyes closed, lazing beneath the sun. He remembered the taste of the water, soft and pure with mineral. The brine in his mouth made it difficult to pretend.<br/>
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He was left far too long with his thoughts before the disorientation came. There was noise, trying to snap him out of it, somewhere trying to mix with his mind. A ship, Altair gathered lazily. He thought it was Cygnus' ship come back to get him. To revive him, so that they might torture him so that instead of one punishment, one death, he had to suffer two. Altair did not want to go, but he was sluggish. Much too sluggish for any form of resistance. Altair tried to focus on the ship, and what was being said from the men, but it was difficult. Nothing distinct. He couldn't remember.<br/>
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<i>Let go, Altair. Let go.</i><br/>
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It would have been the smart thing to do. To unhinge his fingers from the barrel, and to let himself be consumed by the sea. They'd never be able to find him if he cleared the air from his lunged and breathed the water into him. Death was a frightening thing though, and that was too direct. He didn't want to be an active participant in his death any more than he wanted to be in his rape. Would he beg now? Most likely, once he was conscious enough to do so. Cygnus had probably finally succeeded in breaking him over that barrel, and now he'd come back to gloat. Altair would let himself be taken up by him again.. all because he didn't wish to die.</span></span>