Thirteen years in a wooden cell with only his thoughts and the waves below to keep him company. Ghazan longs for earth under his feet. He's grown accustomed to the swaying platform in the sea, but it never feels natural.
He often repeats the names of his comrades so that he remembers why he's here, what he's fighting for. Zaheer, Ming-Hua, P'Li. All of them languishing in prisons across the Four Nations. Their names shore up Ghazan's resolve for revenge.
When he imagines his reunion with his friends, he always pictures Ming-Hua's watery tentacles, Zaheer's sneer. The rest of their characteristics are slowly washed away by the tides. But P'Li remains crystallized in his mind: her jet black bun, her fierce red lips, the ruby eye etched on her forehead. He longs for heat during the driving rains, so he turns to thoughts of P'Li to keep warm.