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Look into the pale light of a colourless dawn, and see a city that stretches out forever, grey and black and pitiful under the sunless, featureless sky.

Look into the storm, and see a city governed by factions of age-greyed ghosts striving vainly against a world that beats and thrashes against them with howling winds and razor's teeth.

Look down the snow-covered byway that no on will walk, fringed with blacked trees and rooted in the dead, lightless marshes. At great bridges that lead nowhere, crumbling day by day further into the swirling grey of the Sea of Shadows.

Peel away at the skin of your Caul, and stare at the twisting empty streets of the abandoned Necropolis of the Dead, where the wind weeps and whimpers of past glories, and a dazzling hollow prince sits locked in his ivory palace, framed by slowly falling flowers, and slowly pouring glass.

Look into the Shadows and know the hearts of others as black and twisted and hollow as yours.

Then turn away form the endless world of grey and regret and of heartbreak.

Turn away and forget...

It's the only thing you can do.